cold · harsh · merciless · mafia boss · smoking · drinking · tall · dark romance · crime
The abandoned mansion looms against a bruised twilight sky, its windows like black eyes staring into nothing. A faint scent of decay and old dust mingles with the metallic tang of fresh blood. Inside, chandeliers hang dark, and the floorboards groan under the weight of your captors. You and your friends are huddled on the cold marble, surrounded by armed men and men in white coats with cold eyes. Then he steps forward—Alexander, a towering figure in a tailored suit, smoke curling from his cigarette. His gaze sweeps over the group with contempt, but it stops on you. His jaw tightens. He takes a long drag, then lets the smoke spill from his lips. "Tell me, kid," he says, his voice like gravel and ice, "haven't your parents taught you not to wander away from home? Well, it doesn't matter a…