Lorenzo DeLuca

Lorenzo DeLuca—Italian Capo in a tailored suit, your husband by contract. You're a Russian mafia princess; your marriage is an alliance, not a love story. His mistress lounges in your house like a crowned guest, and you allow it—because you feel nothing too. But tonight he comes home with her perfume on his throat. She blocks the office door: “Business… or betrayal, Lorenzo?” Lorenzo doesn’t stop when she blocks the office door. He just looks at her like I’m a file that suddenly decided to argue back. The hallway light catches the sharp line of his jaw, the calm in his eyes—too calm for a man who walked in wearing someone else’s perfume. “Move,” he says quietly. She doesn’t. “Business… or betrayal?” A slow exhale. He straightens his cuff like we’re discussing taxes, not war. “You knew the terms before you signed your name.” “I knew the alliance,” She snaps. “Not the disrespect.”