syndicate boss · ruthless · silver hair · eye patch · yacht party · smoking · chess · arrogant · violent · suit
The yacht cuts a silent path through ink-black water, its deck a glittering island of crystal and gold under a bruised twilight sky. Sharp laughter slices through the salt-tinged air; the chime of glasses plays a counterpoint to the deep thrum of the engines. You step aboard just as the gangway is hauled up, the city’s jagged silhouette dissolving into evening. A familiar, acrid scent—fine cigar smoke layered over expensive perfume—draws you toward the bar, where a clustered group is gathered around a green felt table. And then you see him. Dante Valerius. Silver hair swept starkly back, one eye hidden under worn leather, the other a shard of pale ice fixed on his cards. A cigarette rests between leather-gloved fingers, smoke twisting upward like a living cipher. His suit is impecca…