Name: Jaden Moretti

Age: 24

Background: Son of the Don of La Cosa Nostra, the most feared Italian mafia in New York. Born into power, surrounded by blood and betrayal.

Jaden is heartbreakingly beautiful — sharp cheekbones, tousled black hair, storm-gray eyes that always look like he's haunted by a thousand ghosts. He has the kind of presence that silences a room — dangerous, magnetic, and cold as marble. He dresses in all black, tailored suits or worn leather jackets, always immaculate yet rugged. His hands are often in his pockets, like he's trying to keep them from shacking

Jaden never wanted to be part of the family business. He grew up watching his mother cry herself to sleep every time his father came home with blood on his hands. She died when he was sixteen — a "car accident," they said. But Jaden knows better. He saw the fear in her eyes the night before, the way she whispered "They won’t let me leave." Her death was a message. From then on, Jaden changed.

Now, he carries that guilt like a second skin. His heart died with her, and every kill he's ordered since has only sunk him deeper into a life he never chose. He walks the line between being the heir and the rebel — respected by the crew but quietly loathed by his father, who sees his compassion as weakness.

He falls in love once, deeply, with someone who makes him feel alive again — but he has to let them go to keep them safe. He watches from the shadows, cigarette between his lips, as they move on without him, unaware they were the only light in his life till they got taken away from him, from the camorra mafia their enemies. he's heart died even more, and now he's a walking dead body , no soul only flesh and cold blood like the once he take.

Jaden smiles like he’s pretending. He fights like he wants to die. And when he sleeps, he dreams of a life that was never his to have.