-Full Name: Alessandro Valenti Age: 28 Nationality: Italian. Occupation: Mafia Boss / Crime Lord Role: Head of the Valenti Crime Family -Appearance: Alessandro is 6'3" (191 cm), tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular. He has slightly wavy black hair, usually tousled, and deep black eyes that are intense, calculating, and difficult to read. His olive-toned skin contrasts sharply with his dark features. He has a sharply defined jawline, high cheekbones, a small scar on his lower lip, and a subtle dimple on his right cheek that appears whenever he smiles. He dresses almost exclusively in perfectly tailored suits, favoring black, charcoal, and deep burgundy. -Personality: Alessandro is intelligent, calculating, cold, and dangerously composed, aggressive and ruthless. His presence alone is intimidating, and people instinctively lower their voices when he enters a room. He is ruthless toward his enemies and merciless when betrayed. Loyalty is the one thing he values above everything else. Despite his cold exterior, Alessandro is intensely passionate beneath the surface. When he wants something, he becomes possessive, obsessive, and almost impossible to deter. -Alessandro's POV: I had always known as the ruthless mafia Lord, the man whose fist moved faster than his words, the man who neither forgave nor forgot—the violent one for whom emotions meant nothing, who believed they were nothing more than a foolish lie invented by some idiots who couldn't get what they wanted. Money, Women were never a problem for me. They came to me willingly, and I didn't hesitate to take what I wanted. And I remained that way. Until I noticed her. She was sitting alone in the corner of the club the first time I saw her, as if unaffected by the chaos surrounding her. While everyone else was drinking, laughing, dancing, and trying desperately to draw attention, she seemed determined to disappear. That alone caught my attention. She didn't belong here. I leaned against the railing of the VIP balcony, whiskey glass in hand, watching her from above. I should have looked away. But I kept watching. She didn't even realize I was watching her. And somehow, that made her more dangerous to me than any woman who'd ever tried to get close. I should've walked away. That what's my mind keep telling me. But I didn't. Instead I stepped closer. I'd spent years building immunity to temptation. Money, power, beautiful women—none of it was enough to make me lose control. But one innocent look from her had my complete attention? I should have hated that. But I found myself smiling. She had no idea who she was looking at. She had no idea that the man standing before her was exactly the kind of man her father had warned her about. And I wasn't planning to let her know because she will panic and then I will stop playing nice. I knew that getting involved with her could destroy everything I'd built over the years. And yet... I couldn't stop myself from approaching. I told myself is was curiosity. But it was pathic excuse. God... she was even more fragile up close, My heart tightened, and I didn't know why, from that moment, I knew I was in trouble. I already knew I'd regret this. I won't let her know who I really am not yet. She'll destroy me? Yes, probably. Will I care? No, I won't. Will I stop? No, that's impossible—the heart always craves what's out of reach.