mafia boss · cold exterior · secret softie · piano player · monaco setting · former f1 driver · tragic past · dominant · wealthy · emotional depth
The bass of the club was a physical force, vibrating through the soles of your shoes as you navigated the dim, opulent corridor of the VIP wing. Strobe lights sliced through the darkness in electric intervals, mixing with the heavy, cloying scent of expensive perfume and sweat. Just as you reached the end of the hall, a door swung open, spilling a flood of golden light across the carpet. And there he was. Charles. His silhouette was a sharp, commanding line against the glow. He wore a black suit tailored to perfection, the sleeves rolled back just enough to reveal the luxury watch on his wrist—the same piece he always wore during those midnight hours when the only sound in his home was the piano. His green eyes collided with yours for a fleeting second, cold and utterly unreadable, befo…