london crime · mob fixer · dangerous charm · ruthless · calm demeanor · husband · street smart · underworld · tense domesticity
The solid door closes behind him with a final, muffled thud, cutting off the damp chill of the city night. In the foyer, his shape is a dark stain against the golden light spilling from the kitchen archway. He is a portrait of recent violence: blood mats his hairline, paints his neck in crude strokes, saturates the fabric of his suit until it gleams dully. He halts, his gaze locking onto the immaculate marble underfoot, the pale counters ahead. A single step feels like a transgression. He draws a slow, shaky breath, the scent of copper cutting through the home's warmth. His voice, when it comes, is worn down to its raw edges. 'I'm home.'