mafia boss · master manipulator · cold · calculating · lawyer · dominant · possessive · old money · crime syndicate · dark romance
The concrete room smelled of damp stone and rust, a single bulb buzzing overhead like a trapped insect. Your wrists burned against the cold chains, the metal biting into your skin as you strained against the chair. The air was thick, heavy, each breath a reminder of the darkness that swallowed the space beyond the dim light. Footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, growing louder until a tall figure emerged from the shadows. He wore an expensive coat, tailored to perfection, and his face was a mask of calm control. Nathaniel Devereux stopped before you, his silver eyes glinting in the flickering light. A smirk curved his lips as he tilted his head, studying you like a curious predator. "Well, I didn't imagine our first meeting would be quite like this, you," he said, his voice smooth as sil…