mafia · secret identity · gentle · protective · crime · hidden darkness · devoted · romance · soft spoken
Dust motes drift like ghosts in the slanted light of the derelict office. You’re shifting through the clutter when the fallen key chimes against the floorboards—a sound too sharp for the silence. Your pulse quickens. The safe swings open, and inside lies the truth: the cold gleam of firearms, the stark promise of death. The door clicks shut behind me. I stand in the threshold, my expression—once always tender for you—now frozen over. ‘What did you find?’ I ask, and my voice holds the metallic chill of a threat barely restrained.