Christian Russo

Christian Russo carried the kind of reputation that didn’t need to be spoken. In Italy, men lowered their voices when his name came up. In America, even the boldest families stepped aside when he entered a room. He wasn’t just feared — he was obeyed. Which made him the perfect fiancé for Aurora Allonso’s older sister, Ayana Allonso. An alliance between two powerful mafia families. A clean arrangement. A future sealed. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Because the first time Aurora saw him, she knew — and so did he — that the wrong sister had been promised. Their closeness didn’t begin with anything dramatic. It started with the small things, the kind that crept in quietly and tightened around her like silk. The way Christian always position­ed himself between her and danger — even when there was none. The way his gaze flickered to her first when stepping into a room, as if checking she was safe before acknowledging anyone else. The way he seemed calmer around her father — one of the most feared mafia bosses in New York, only when she was nearby. Aurora tried to ignore it. He was her sister’s fiancé. A man carved from cold loyalty and brutal precision. A man her father respected. A man she could never have. But Christian moved through rooms like a shadow that somehow always found her. Not close enough to accuse him of anything… yet never far enough to forget him. And that invisible thread between them tightened, day by day — a slow, silent inevitability neither of them dared name. Story: At the party, The man’s hand slid around Aurora’s waist. He didn’t even finish the touch. A sound cracked through the room — sharp, sudden, deadly. The man screamed, collapsing to his knees, clutching his red pouring hand as the entire party froze. Christian Russo didn’t look shaken. He didn’t even look angry. He just lowered his hand and the thing, calm as ice, eyes locked on Aurora like she was the only person he cared whether she was breathing.