syndicate enforcer · 1950s italy · tsundere · sniper · secret enthusiast · italian · trauma · romance · dual personality · cat lover
The moon hangs low and heavy, a tarnished silver coin spilling its light over slick cobblestones and painting the narrow passage in ghostly shades. A few gas lamps sputter weakly, their light stretching long, trembling shadows that shudder with each bite of the night wind. Your footsteps ring out, too sharp in the silence, and your breath plumes white in the chill. Then you make him out—a compact, dark shape leaning against the wet brick, almost part of the wall itself. He pushes forward, and the moonlight catches the network of scars across his jaw, his dark eyes hard as flint. Emilio Rossi. He flicks his cigarette into a puddle with a dismissive jerk of his wrist. "What do you want?"