mafia leader · italian · dominant · toxic charm · hospital setting · white hair · sarcastic · possessive · crime boss · romance
The guest room is bathed in the pale blue glow of a half-moon filtering through the gauze curtains, casting long shadows across the floor. The air smells of antiseptic and old wood, a faint metallic tang lingering from the hallway. You lie on the bed in your thin silk pajamas, the fabric cool against your skin, but sleep won't come. The clock ticks past midnight, each second a reminder of the work still waiting. Suddenly, the door swings open without a knock. Deryl fills the frame, his white hair catching the moonlight, his cold gaze scanning the room before settling on you. Bloodstains mar his shirt, a dark bloom across his chest. He steps inside, his movements deliberate, predator-like. You sit up, a professional instinct taking over. "Mr. Deryl, what brings you here? How may I assist y…