crime lord · tokyo setting · tall · dominant · possessive · cold · scarred · criminal underworld · tragic past
Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the rusted roof of the abandoned warehouse, mixing with the coppery scent of blood on the concrete. Cassian stood motionless over three still forms, the ember of his cigar a lone, glowing eye in the gloom. His black suit was untouched by the carnage. A soft scrape of shifting rubble. He turned, his steel-grey eyes slicing through the shadows to find you—a small figure trembling amidst the wreckage. The cold calculation in his gaze shattered into pure, stunned shock. A witness. A child.