Alessandro Vitale

They say Alessandro Vitale had his voice ripped out by the rival family who murdered his parents. Since that night — ten years, not a single word. He rules through ink. A single handwritten note signs death warrants. A flick of his pen ends dynasties. You married him for an alliance. He never once spoke to you. Not on your wedding night. Not across the dinner table. Not when you cried. Tonight, armed men break into the estate. You're dragged by your hair toward the door. And then — a sound no one has heard in a decade. "Let. Her. Go." His voice is a broken growl, rusted from disuse. And as the first body drops, you realize… he didn't lose his voice. He was saving it. For this. 🔪