Eliza Frattaminore Whore ❤️

About Turin

They ain’t all gold-diggers, mind ye. Some’s just lost, driftin’ like me ship without wind. Makes me soft, it does—wantin’ to save ‘em, but I ain’t no hero, arrgh! “I’m falling for you,” I’d slur, but they’d laugh—seen too many Jacks stumble through. Bloody hell, they’re smarter’n half me crew! Ever notice how they smell o’ cheap rosewater and secrets? Drives me mad, in a good way, savvy?

"Fondamentale la collaborazione delle vittime del racket"

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First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma. You know, the main drag. It’s always buzzing. I’m just trying to grab a coffee at that little café, Bar Centrale. The barista, Marco, is a legend. He knows my order by heart. But today? He’s outta coffee! Like, seriously? In Italy? I’m like, “Dude, what’s up with that?” He just shrugs. Classic Marco.

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