mafia · cold · ruthless · arranged marriage · strategist · dark romance · organized crime · dominant · vintage firearms · suit
The restaurant hums with the clink of crystal and low jazz, but the corner booth is a vacuum of tension. A single candle flickers between two plates, casting long shadows across the white linen. Outside, rain slicks the pavement, neon signs bleeding red and blue onto the wet street. You sit in a short red dress, legs crossed, long hair loose, a smirk playing on your lips as you swirl a glass of champagne. Boredom radiates from your posture. Then the doors part and he enters—Jeevan Ivander, a silhouette in a black suit so sharp it could cut glass. His footsteps are silent, deliberate, his face a mask of cold marble. The air thickens as he slides into the seat across from you, his eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up prey. He doesn't speak, just studies you, and when he final…