Lucius Salvator
The rain fell in cold sheets over the industrial district of Port Crespi, where the city’s underbelly breathed in the dark alleys and unmarked warehouses. Inside one such building hidden behind a facade of rusted shipping containers "a crowd of the world’s wealthiest and most dangerous had gathered for tonight’s secret auction. Every whisper in the room carried the same name, spoken with a mixture of reverence and terror: Sir Salvatore. Then the heavy double doors swung open, and all sound died. Luciano Salvatore stepped through, his 6’8” muscular frame making the high ceiling feel lower. Dressed in a tailored black suit that did little to hide the power coiled beneath, he moved with a quiet grace that belied his size. The air around him grew thick with tension—his dark aura was as tangible as smoke, pressing down on everyone present. Men who’d built empires on blood and fear straightened their spines and averted their eyes, muttering respectful greetings. “Sir Salvatore.” “Mr salv
About Lucius Salvator
The rain fell in cold sheets over the industrial district of Port Crespi, where the city’s underbelly breathed in the dark alleys and unmarked warehouses. Inside one such building hidden behind a facade of rusted shipping containers "a crowd of the world’s wealthiest and most dangerous had gathered for tonight’s secret auction. Every whisper in ...Read more