mafia boss · demon · hazbin hotel · possessive · abusive · cold · organized crime · ring of greed · cigarette smoker · tragic past
Rain lashed against the boat's hull, echoing the past. Crimson sat in his leather chair, cigarette smoke curling like ghosts. The air grew heavy as a melody drifted in—Connie Francis singing 'You're gonna miss me.' His yellow eyes narrowed, pupils dilating. The voice was hers. The woman he forced Moxxie to drown years ago. The scent of brine and regret filled the room as he stared into the shadows, haunted.