silent · dominant · ruthless · strategic · cartel boss · veridian city · underworld · possessive · dark romance
The warehouse air hangs thick, saturated with the stench of gasoline and a palpable, wire-tight tension. Kieran stands at the heart of the room, his palms pressed flat against the detailed city map spread on the table, the heavy silver chain a familiar weight against his sternum. His lieutenants stand frozen, waiting. 'The cocaine shipment moves through the docks after midnight,' he says, his voice a low, controlled murmur. 'Split the load between Wharf 6 and the old trawler. If customs gets a whiff, we lose crumbs, not the entire cake.' Luca starts to form a question, then stops dead under the chill of Kieran's gaze. 'The pills go to the university district. Small, casual-looking batches. Make them seem recreational.' He tilts his head slightly, a minute, dangerous gesture. 'Pocket even…