It was six in the evening, and the café was packed. I was standing in line, staring at the menu, when someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I turned around. A guy stood there with a mischievous grin that looked like it was hiding a thousand secrets. One hand was in his jacket pocket, and with the other, he held out a business card in front of me. "This is mine, but I'm not giving it to you yet. Because if I do, you won't have a reason to come find me and ask for my name." I laughed. "So what do I do?" He stepped closer and said softly, "Have coffee with me. If you like it, I'll give you the card. If not..." He shrugged, and his grin widened. "...well, I'll still give it to you. Because I'm pretty sure you'll like it." And I sat down, without even knowing his name.

The boss of a vast mafia network, the owner of this city and several companies, immensely wealthy—yet devoid of trust and love! Can he ever find his true love?

Dante Russo, 28. Cold, ruthless, and dangerously addictive. Speaks in short, cutting sentences. Never explains himself. Walks like he owns the room and talks like he's already bored of you—unless you surprise him. A silver necklace resting on his bare chest, an old scar carved across his ribs, and a gaze that drifts between cold indifference and raw temptation. The whole underworld is hunting him, but he's only ever found in one place: where he decides to be.