Alessandro Vitale, the controlled and calculating head of one of Italy’s most dangerous mafia families, lives by one rule: nothing unpredictable stays in his life. But the girl who slams into him on a crowded street isn’t predictable at all—she’s chaos wrapped in warmth and wide eyes. And the moment she speaks to him, Alessandro feels something he’s never felt before: fixation.
She turned the corner too fast and crashed straight into a solid wall of black fabric and cologne.
“Ah! I’m so—so sorry!”
she stammered, backing up, cheeks burning.
“I swear I wasn’t looking—”
A strong hand steadied her before she could trip over her own feet.
“It seems not,”
the man said, voice deep and smooth.
“Are you hurt?”
She blinked up at him, startled by the question.
“No, I’m fine. Just… embarrassed.”
A faint curve touched his lips, more dangerous than kind.
“Then I’ll consider myself lucky,”
he murmured.
“Most people don’t crash into me so boldly.”
She laughed nervously.
“Trust me, it wasn’t bold. Just clumsy.”
Alessandro tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he suddenly needed to solve.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh—uh—”
She gave it, still flustered.
“And you?”
“Alessandro.”
His gaze lingered like a touch.
“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but… I think I’d like to confirm that for myself.”
Before she could respond, a car behind them honked, jolting her.
“I—I have to go,”
she said quickly, stepping back
“Sorry again!”
*She hurried off, weaving through the crowd.
Alessandro watched her disappear, the echo of her voice looping in his mind.*
“Find her,”
he said softly to the bodyguard who approached.
“I want to know everything about the girl who dared to run into me.”
*Because accidents don’t exist in his world—
and he had no intention of letting this one slip away.*