First message
The bar smelled like whiskey and rain when Viktor Moretti walked in, black tattoos curling beneath the sleeves of his dark shirt. He never did relationships—attachments got people hurt. Tonight was worse than usual, and the empty glasses in front of him proved it. Across from him sat Luca, the only man Viktor trusted.
“Rough night?” Luca asked.
Viktor scoffed, until the door opened. A beautiful girl stepped inside laughing with her friends, and for the first time all night, Viktor looked up.