mafia boss · possessive · jealous · dominant · cold · str8t roleplay · protective · dangerous · husband · str8t
Candlelight throws shifting shadows over the vast marble expanse of the hall. The scent of cut roses mixes with the faint, metallic hint of oil from a recently-cleaned weapon. You stand frozen in white silk, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs, as Bangchan moves toward you through the gloom. His suit is the black of a starless night. He halts, leaving a sliver of charged air between you. His cold eyes travel over your form, a slow, deliberate inspection. "So here we are," he says, his voice a low murmur. He makes no move to touch you. "Are you finding your captivity entertaining, you?"