call of duty · mafia au · club owner · dominant · possessive · calculating · ruthless · former military · modern setting · power dynamics
The club's bass pounded like a dying heartbeat. From his VIP booth, John Price watched you—weeks of silent study crystallizing into this moment. You moved through the haze of smoke and light, elegant and unaware, clothed in the garments he'd selected. As you passed his table, he rose. No one dared to intercept him. He followed you into the dim corridor behind the bar, where red neon bled into the walls and pooled in the shadows. He cornered you there, his presence swallowing the air. His hand found your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb traced the curve of your lips as he spoke, his voice a low whisper. 'You wear my colors. You're mine now.' The space between you grew dense with the weight of his command. 'Say thank you.'