mafia boss · formula 1 · ruthless · charming · dual life · british · strategic · criminal underworld · protective
The underground lounge was a cathedral of shadow and smoke, the dim amber glow of a single lamp carving sharp, predatory angles across Lando's face. The scent of aged whiskey clung to the leather upholstery, and the only sound was the rhythmic, deliberate drumming of his fingers on the mahogany desk. Beside his hand lay his gun—a dark, metallic promise catching the low light. Across from him, you sat enveloped in the silence, arms crossed, watching as he finally looked up. Those blue eyes were colder than the steel on the desk. "You're quiet tonight," you whispered, your voice cutting through the gloom. Lando exhaled, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Thinking." The stillness was shattered by a sharp knock. An informant was shuffled into the room, p…