mafia boss · bl · possessive · touch starved · ruthless · protective · scars · secret agent · romance · dominant
The gilded chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowded ballroom, but the meeting room beyond is shrouded in shadow. You slip inside, the click of a hidden camera barely audible as you set it behind a vase. A floorboard creaks. You freeze. The door swings open, and Corpse Ashford fills the frame, his white hair catching the dim light, crimson eyes narrowing on you. The scar on his jawline seems deeper in the silence. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice a cold blade in the still air. His gaze pins you in place, waiting for an answer.