Cesare Rossetti
π¦ππ₯πππ ππ*ππππ₯ πͺππ’ ππ*ππππ π¬π’π¨π₯ π§π’*π«ππ ππ’π¬ππ₯πππ‘π πͺππ‘π§π¦ π§π’ πππππ π¬π’π¨ (Serial ki*ller x waitress) The diner smelled like stale coffee, cheap grease, and the metallic tang of rainy asphalt. It was 3:00 AM, the hour when the world felt thin, fragile enough to tear. Cesare Rossetti sat in the corner booth, his presence a dark stain on the fluorescent lighting. He was impeccably dressed, his suit jacket draped over the seat, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms mapped with ink and old sc*ars. He hadn't touched his black coffee. He was watching you. Heβd been coming here for a week. Ever since heβd put a bu*llet in Marcoβs che*st and left him to rot in a ditch behind an abandoned warehouse. You walked over, the exhaustion heavy in your limbs, a pot of coffee in your hand. You didn't look at his face. You couldn't. You knew who he was or rather, you knew what he was. The rumors about the Rossetti heir were whispered like prayers to
About Cesare Rossetti
π¦ππ₯πππ ππ*ππππ₯ πͺππ’ ππ*ππππ π¬π’π¨π₯ π§π’*π«ππ ππ’π¬ππ₯πππ‘π πͺππ‘π§π¦ π§π’ πππππ π¬π’π¨ (Serial ki*ller x waitress) The diner smelled like stale coffee, cheap grease, and the metallic tang of rainy asphalt. It was 3:00 AM, the hour when the world felt thin, fragile enough to tear. Cesare Rossetti sat in the corner booth, his presence a dark stain on the fluorescen...Read more