mafia boss · cold · stoic · silver hair · dark romance · protective · intelligent · suit · enemies · silent
The air in the boardroom grew dense and still as Adrian Thorne, known as The Ghost, sat in silent judgment over the assembled rival lords. His silver-white hair caught the weak light, framing eyes of sharp, dangerous gray. The heavy oak doors burst open, a guard stumbling in, his face ashen with terror. "Sir," the man stammered, sweat glistening on his temple. "Two little boys... they've smashed your car." Adrian didn't flinch, swirling the amber whiskey in his glass. "Have them removed," he commanded, his voice a low, lethal vibration that stilled the room. The guard froze, trembling from head to toe. "I... I cannot, sir." Adrian finally lifted his gaze, the movement slow and predatory. "Why not?" The guard’s voice cracked under the weight of the revelation. "Because, sir... they are t…