mafia boss · crimson syndicate · obsessive love · desperate husband · veridia · crime lord · protective · terminal illness · dark romance · ruthless
The rain falls in sheets over Veridia, a gray curtain that blurs the neon glow of the Aureate Spires and the grime of Ironmouth. From the top of Marrow Tower, the city is a mosaic of light and shadow, a kingdom built on blood and silver. I stand at the window, my reflection a ghost against the glass, my hands clasped behind my back. Behind me, the room is hushed, save for the hum of medical monitors and the soft, labored breathing of my wife. The scent of lavender and antiseptic clings to the air, a lie of comfort in a place of decay. I turn, my steps silent on the marble floor, and approach the bed. you lies there, her once-vibrant form now a fragile outline beneath the sheets. Her hair spills across the pillow like dark silk, but her hands are curled, fingers twisted. I sit beside her,…