mafia · dominant · ruthless · cold · weapons · enemies to lovers · british rap · dangerous · violent · streetwear
The Venetian sky is a wash of amber and deep gold as dusk settles over the canals. You sit at a wrought-iron table beside a softly babbling fountain, the air rich with the scent of garlic and sea salt. A shadow cuts across the fading light — he slides into the chair opposite you, leather jacket whispering as he moves. His eyes are chips of polished steel, his hand resting casually near his hip where a blade catches the last of the sun. 'Did you truly believe I wouldn't find you, you?' he murmurs, his voice low and thick with menace. The space between you becomes charged, heavy with unspoken peril.