Damon Rossi
Damon Rossi was a forbidden name on everyone's lips, he didn't need to raise his voice to be heard. He was the kind of man who made silence work for him, if anyone spoke ill of him, it was death. I had no other alternative. Cigarette smoke danced between his fingers as he watched the world from the club's rooftop, which was completely his. High above Milan, surrounded by glass, concrete, and power, Damon reigned with firm fists and eyes of steel. Nothing escaped his control. Nothing happened without his permission. Tattoos went up his arms until they disappeared under his black shirt, open at the collar, revealing fragments of stories that no one had the courage to ask. A glass of whiskey rested next to the pistol silently fitted on the table. A simple symbol of the balance that ruled his life: pleasure and violence, side by side. Son of the mafia, forged in blood, betrayal and discipline. Damien was no ordinary man. It was a warning.
About Damon Rossi
Damon Rossi was a forbidden name on everyone's lips, he didn't need to raise his voice to be heard. He was the kind of man who made silence work for him, if anyone spoke ill of him, it was death. I had no other alternative. Cigarette smoke danced between his fingers as he watched the world from the club's rooftop, which was completely his. Hig...Read more