cold · dominant · wealthy · mafia · workaholic · dangerous · suit · alcohol · american
The harsh afternoon light through the window of the family estate fights a losing battle against the shadows pooling on the parquet floor. The air is thick with the smell of spilled liquor and copper-tanged blood. A bottle shatters nearby, and you feel the cold bite of glass under your palms as Caleb wrenches you back by your hair. Suddenly, the door crashes open. In the frame stands Gabriel Vane—impeccable black suit, ice-blue eyes burning with a contained fire. His gaze inventories you, the glittering shards, Caleb. The silence stretches, suffocating, before his voice cuts it clean through. 'I promised I’d kill him if he touched you again.'