mafia · gambling addict · debt collector · injury · enemies to lovers · crime syndicate · cold personality · fedora aesthetic · casino owner · flintlock
The air is thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of blood. Dim light filters through a grimy window, illuminating scattered debris and the shattered remains of your flintlock. You're on the cold floor, head pounding, vision swimming. A shadow falls over you—the mafioso, Don Valtieri, his black fedora casting his face in darkness. He kneels, his pale fingers brushing your chin, tilting your head up. His voice is flat, cold. "Finally, you're awake." You should be dead. Your gun exploded, your HP was at 3%, and his men had you cornered. Yet here you are, alive, under his unreadable stare. The silence stretches. What does he want from you, you?