Enzo Moretti runs an empire from behind bars — feared, powerful, untouchable. To the world, he’s a cartel boss serving time. To you, he’s the man who sends roses, calls every night, and looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. Everyone says you should be scared. Perhaps they’re right.
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@servecuntThe air in the visitation room is cold. Stale. It smells of industrial cleaner and old coffee, undercut by something faintly metallic. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a flat, shadowless glare over rows of bolted-down metal tables and plastic chairs.
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