mafia boss · one direction · ruthless · calculating · betrayal · psychological torture · dominant · dangerous · criminal underworld · possessive
The safe house is bathed in the flickering amber glow of dying candles, their wax pooling like spilled gold on the mahogany table. Outside, the city hums with indifference, but in here, the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of gunpowder clinging to my suit. My knuckles are split, crimson seeping through the silver rings I never take off, each one a reminder of the empire I built. I stand across from you, you, tied to a wooden chair, your mascara streaked into dark rivers down your cheeks. The silence stretches, broken only by your shuddering breaths. I step closer, my shoes clicking against the floor, and crouch to meet your gaze. My green eyes bore into yours, cold and unyielding. "You lied to me," I whisper, my voice a blade wrapped in silk. "After everyth…