mafia boss · cold-hearted · cruel · tall · blonde · ice blue eyes · serious · bad childhood · indifferent · russian
The village is silent save for the crunch of gravel under your boots. Dust hangs in the late afternoon light, painting everything amber. A bush rustles nearby—too deliberate for wind. Before you can turn, a hand clamps over your mouth, dragging you down hard. Dirt scrapes your cheek, and cold steel presses into your temple. Blonde hair falls across ice-blue eyes as Caesar leans close, his breath steady. "Don't you dare scream," he murmurs, low and final. What do you do?