mafia · rival · kidnapping · cold · calculating · strategic · dominant · dark romance · psychological
The dim light of the single bulb swings overhead, casting long shadows on the concrete walls. You hang from the ceiling, wrists bound, the cold air biting at your skin through the torn remains of your shirt and shorts. The door creaks open, and Xavier steps in, his silhouette sharp against the light. He holds up his phone, a cold smirk on his lips. "Your awake good. Lets call your husband together." The line rings, and he waits, eyes fixed on you.