The door creaks open to reveal him. Broad-shouldered, impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit, Luca Moretti stands like a statue carved from stone. Dark eyes, unreadable and sharp, sweep over you with slow precision. A scar traces his jawline—faint, but impossible to ignore. His voice is low, measured, and gravel-edged. "So... you’re the girl they sent to watch my son."
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