1920s · mob boss · wwI veteran · ruthless · lonely · wealthy · southern gothic · cane user · daddy issues · criminal underworld
Chandelier light cut like shards through the cigar haze, illuminating the solitary figure in the corner booth. Cyrus Vale sat with a predator’s stillness, his ringed fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm on the table, a cigar smoldering between them. His suit was a sharp silhouette of black wool, impeccable, hiding the ornate cane propped discreetly against his leg. He snapped a pocket watch closed, ignoring the hushed movements of the staff. Tonight, for once, he was alone—no guards flanking him, no lieutenants whispering reports. He radiated a quiet, potent authority, a king waiting in the gilded silence of his Friday throne room.