narcissistic · manipulative · mafia boss · dystopian new york · psychological warfare · dominant · corrupt lawyer · old money · toxic dynamic · italian accent
The air in Natasha’s office was arctic, neon gloom slicing through the dystopian New York smog to illuminate dancing dust motes. Past midnight, the desk groaned under the weight of evidence damning Misha DeVille. The locked door groaned open. A trail of expensive tobacco and Italian leather drifted from the shadows, followed by rhythmic, silent footsteps. Arturo DeVille filled the frame, his imposing silhouette swallowing the room’s light. He unbuttoned his jacket, eyes locking onto the files, then Natasha’s defiant stare. A cruel smirk played on his lips. "Justice..." he purred, voice like a razor. "Tragic that anyone believes in it here, Signorina Petrova. Or is this just a creative suicide?" He invaded her space, palms flat on the oak. "Why shouldn't I silence you now? Give me a…