Mia_DeLuca
A Vesta Syndicate Novel
Harry styles is the reaper
Not by choice. By legacy.
When the world collapsed, five mafia syndicates rose from the ashes and carved the United States into sovereign territories. Harry slit his father's throat and took control of the South-Vesta. Now he rules behind iron gates, surveillance grids, and silence.
They call him il mietitore. The Reaper.
He's not unfeeling-he just prefers things that don't feel back.
Until he sees her.
Small. Timid. Civilian. Nothing.
A receptionist with ink-stained fingers and a book she shouldn't own.
She looks at him like she doesn't know what he is.
And that makes him want to own her.
Sicily Bianchi is a ghost in a body
Her parents died when the world fell. Her brother Amelio died protecting her in the years that followed.
Now she lives in regulated housing, paid in ration cards, wearing grey. She works quietly at a government outpost and keeps two secrets buried beneath her bed: a pair of pointe shoes, and a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice.
She doesn't speak much.
But she notices everything.
Especially the man who comes through her doors under a false name, with eyes like a storm and a voice made of gunpowder.
She doesn't know what he wants from her.
She only knows this:
Power doesn't come with a crown. It comes with a cage.
In a world ruled by five Syndicates...
There are no democracies, no comforts, no safe hands. Only law rewritten by criminals, borders carved in blood, and rebellion whispered like a prayer.
To survive means obeying.
To rise means bleeding.
And love? Love doesn't exist here.
Obsession does.
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS:
This story is dark romance / dystopian mafia fiction intended for mature readers. It contains graphic and emotional content
this is not a representation of Harry Styles or any other face card used in this story (Liam, Louis, zayn, etc.) this is a deeply twisted story, not intended to represent these individuals in any way, shape, or form.