one in our FOREVERMORE

Book 1

Torren Jang. Don of the Korean-Italian Mafia.
cold - ruthless - cruel - feared
He only feels hate and anger. If he feels.
He never obliges. Never smiles.
Don Jang is just there to torture, kill and run the Mafia.

A museum director who is surrounded by art in every aspect of her life. Surrounded by love even though she never loved.
Leya Vera. Just a woman. Just an artist.
She doesn't know him or what he does.
But he's obsessed with her.

"You're safe," I whisper, and she meets my eyes, inching a bit closer, calming down. One tear slips her swollen eye, which I tenderly wipe away with my thumb before retracting my hand.
We lie like this for what feels like an hour, not saying a word. And then, hesitantly, she reaches out her hand towards mine, so I turn my palm upward, thinking she wants to do the same as before. Her touch glides over my hand, around my wrist, before she turns it over, my palm resting against the bedsheet. It's as if her fingertips are exploring each finger of mine until she grips my pinky. As she falls back to sleep, I find myself unable to look away from her hand clasping my pinky finger.
"I love you, Tesoro," I whisper. "I will die before someone touches you again."