When 22‑year‑old Alex Moore gets accidentally slapped by the city’s most feared mafia boss, he expects to die. Instead, Eryx Navarre cold, ruthless, and stupidly rich , apologizes, buys him dinner, and sends him home with takeout and his private number. Alex should block him. He doesn’t. Because nobody answers Alex’s midnight calls. Nobody feeds him when he forgets to eat, buys him a chair so his back doesn’t break over his laptop, or talks him to sleep when his trauma won’t shut up. Nobody but Eryx.