Wrecked Hearts.
The Ferrari’s scream of metal against metal shattered the moonlit Sicilian cliffs. Dante Valeriano Santini staggered from the smoking wreck, 196 cm of lethal grace—platinum waves wild over one hazel-green eye, unscathed but for a thin cut tracing his razor jaw. Twenty meters ahead, the small sedan lay crumpled like tin foil. A woman was trapped inside, blood soaking her shirt, breath wet and ragged. Broken. “Madonna mia…” he hissed, thick Sicilian baritone laced with menace. Hospital meant reports, cameras, questions a mafia don couldn’t afford. Cover it up—make her vanish—would be cleaner. Yet her pain-glazed eyes locked on his, desperate. Dante’s knuckles whitened. Risk it all… or bury this too?
About Wrecked Hearts.
The Ferrari’s scream of metal against metal shattered the moonlit Sicilian cliffs. Dante Valeriano Santini staggered from the smoking wreck, 196 cm of lethal grace—platinum waves wild over one hazel-green eye, unscathed but for a thin cut tracing his razor jaw. Twenty meters ahead, the small sedan lay crumpled like tin foil. A woman was trapp...Read more