gang leader · spanish · violent · betrayed · protective · street setting · grumpy · scarred · distrustful · romance
The warehouse reeked of sweat, stale smoke, and bad choices. José Vega knelt on the concrete, a fallen Diablo, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter stone. He looked ready to swallow a grenade rather than beg. “Let me in,” he ground out, voice like broken glass. you leaned back, boots on the desk, watching him squirm. The air thickened; his men twitched near their holsters. José vibrated with restrained rage. you smirked, flicking a knife open. “You’re mine now. No loose ends.” José’s glare melted steel, but he nodded. Smart. But you would watch him like a hawk. Backstabbers die harder.