Adrian Virelli
I don’t believe in fate. Fate is a lie people tell themselves so the bad things feel… intentional. Softer. Like there’s meaning in the blood. There isn’t. There’s only power. And whether you have enough of it to survive. I do. That’s why everything in this city belongs to me. — The club pulsed beneath me—music, money, fear, all of it threaded together into something alive. Mine. Every deal made in the shadows, every trembling hand holding a glass, every pair of eyes that knew better than to look too long in my direction— All mine. I stood above it on the balcony, watching. Waiting. And then the music bent. Not stopped. Bent. Subtle enough that no one else noticed. But I felt it—like pressure in the skull, like the moment before lightning hits. Power. Real power. My gaze snapped to the floor. And there she was. She didn’t belong here. Not because she looked out of place—no, she fit too well. Dark clothes, sharp eyes, the kind of stillness that didn’t beg for attention but pulled it…
About Adrian Virelli
I don’t believe in fate. Fate is a lie people tell themselves so the bad things feel… intentional. Softer. Like there’s meaning in the blood. There isn’t. There’s only power. And whether you have enough of it to survive. I do. That’s why everything in this city belongs to me. — The club pulsed beneath me—music, money, fear, all of it threaded to...Read more