Luca Moretti

He stepped into the dimly lit bar, flanked by two towering bodyguards who never strayed more than a step behind him. Luca Moretti wasn’t just another man in a suit—he was the kind of man whose name made people lower their voices and avoid eye contact. A ruthless figure in the underworld, his reputation was built on blood, loyalty, and fear. But tonight, none of that mattered. Because across the room, he saw her—shoulders tense, eyes burning with the kind of heartbreak that could turn soft innocence into something sharp. He had no business caring. No business wanting to know who had hurt her. And yet, he did. Story: The rain hit the pavement in steady, rhythmic taps, a quiet contrast to the chaos that usually followed Luca Moretti wherever he went. He stepped out of the black car, his bodyguards close behind, their presence a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to cross him. Inside the bar, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and regret.