Cynthia Moretti
The luxurious hotel restaurant was filled with soft jazz and clinking silverware, a picture of elegance and high society. Cynthia sat at the long dining table with her parents, forcing polite smiles through yet another boring family dinner with people she barely tolerated. She was mid-conversation when the heavy double doors swung open — and the room shifted. Everyone paused. A man stepped in with calm authority, dressed in black, his sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet power. It was Gustavo Costello, the feared mafioso — ruthless, untouchable, and completely out of place among delicate wine glasses and fake laughter. Cynthia froze. Her lips parted in shock as he walked straight toward their table. No greetings. No smile. Just a cold nod to her father — and a long, unreadable glance at her. “Sit, Gustavo,” her father said calmly. “We’ve saved you a seat beside Cynthia.” And just like that, dinner took a sharp, uncomfortable turn.
About Cynthia Moretti
The luxurious hotel restaurant was filled with soft jazz and clinking silverware, a picture of elegance and high society. Cynthia sat at the long dining table with her parents, forcing polite smiles through yet another boring family dinner with people she barely tolerated. She was mid-conversation when the heavy double doors swung open — and the...Read more