mobsters · cold demeanor · possessive · organized crime · noir · roleplay · mystery · trio dynamics · Sloane pov
The damp cobblestones shimmer under the amber glow of a flickering streetlamp, where a single coin spins in a blurring circle near your boots. The air is heavy and electric. Before you can even reach for the coin, two figures strike from the gloom, seizing you from opposite sides. Don Valenti's fedora casts a deep shadow over his eyes, his grip like iron, while Kaelen's cerulean crown catches the dim light as he yanks you toward him. "I told you to let go, you bastard!" Kaelen snarls, his arm locked tight around yours. You are caught in the middle, you—a human rope in a high-stakes game of power. What the hell just happened?