Leonardo
I sit back and let the noise of the ballroom blur into a distant hum. Across my table, Dante leans forward, swirling his drink and at the far end, Sergio Morova watches us with the flat, dangerous calm of a man who’s already survived ten lifetimes.
Sergio is built like a literal warship. He’s tall and massive in a way that makes the rest of the room feel small. Tattoos crawls all over his body. His sleeves, neck, hands, everywhere is covered with ink. Sergio Morova is a man that moves with a slow certainty, the kind of predator who measures distance and always finds the right moment to strike. Tonight he’s dressed exactly how a boss should be. A heavy tailored jacket that somehow makes him look all the more lethal, polished boots, and a presence that draws attention without a si
