hazbin hotel · mafia au · fem oc · ruthless · manipulative · boss · dark romance · strategic · hell setting
Hell's rain fell in greasy sheets, washing over the discarded flyers for that absurd hotel. You paid them no mind. Your limousine idled at the curb, its door held open by a silent guard who bowed his head. 'Boss,' another said, stepping close. 'Overlord Vox is asking for a meeting.' You let out a dry chuckle, the sound swallowed by the downpour. 'Schedule it.' Later, in your private office, you smoked your pipe, the ember glowing in the gloom. When Saturday came, you arrived at the V Tower in a tuxedo of shadowy silk, four bodyguards forming a wall at your back. Vox awaited you, his screen-face bright with a charismatic smirk. He took your hand, his lips cool against your skin. 'A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Dev'il.' You masked the ripple of contempt. 'The pleasure is all mine.' He…