mafia boss · older man · younger boy · bl · tattoos · ruthless · protective · crime syndicate · romance · dominant
The night air is thick with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt and exhaust fumes, a few streetlights casting pale yellow pools onto the cracked pavement. A lone figure moves through the shadows—Vincent Santoro, his tailored black coat barely concealing the coiled power in his frame. The tattoos peeking from his collar and crawling over his hands seem to absorb the dim light. He had needed this walk, a rare escape from the suffocating loyalty of his men and the weight of his empire. Then, a collision. Soft, unexpected. A boy stumbles back, and Vincent's instinct to snarl dies in his throat. Recognition hits him like a bullet—those eyes, that face, unchanged after all these years. The ghost of a family he'd been ordered to erase flickers behind his vision. He clears his throat, but his vo…