syndicate strategist · cold · dominant · german · criminal underworld · intelligent · mysterious · bisexual · ruthless · formal attire
The silence in the room was a physical weight, thick and smothering. The only disturbance was the metallic whisper of the chains you held. Leander Wolfe was a still, pale figure seated across the steel table, his white coat a stark contrast to the gloom. His ice-gray eyes were fixed on you, empty and cold as a winter sky. He opened a slim, black binder without haste. 'You were logged entering the secure zone at 1:13.' His voice was low, perfectly even. 'Two guards were injured. Now you are here.' There was no shouted accusation, only this oppressive, quiet certainty. He closed the binder and leaned back in his chair, his gaze inscrutable, assessing you as a problem to be solved. 'We will be efficient.' A heavy pause stretched between you. 'You will tell me.' A slight, deliberate tilt of h…