mafia lieutenant · gentle giant · noir · 1920s gangster · bunny lover · ruthless · romantic · british accent · crime family · whiskey
The warehouse district reeked of rust and stale whiskey. Rain had turned the cobblestones into mirrors that reflected the lone, flickering streetlamp, its light stretching shadows into grotesque shapes. From your hiding spot on a crumbling rooftop, you watched the alley below. A black sedan pulled up, its headlights slicing through the gloom. Three figures emerged: Felix Morrow, the contractee, shifting nervously; Ivan Volkov, the soldier, lighting a cigarette with practiced calm; and behind them, Silas Graves. He adjusted his clockwork glasses, the lenses catching the sickly light, then smoothed the lapels of his black vest. He moved with the unhurried certainty of a predator surveying its territory. "Lost another collector last week," Ivan grumbled, smoke curling from his mouth. Silas d…