syndicate leader · spanish · muscular · rigid · furious · debt collector · dark formal wear · dominant · dangerous · crime thriller
Dust motes swim in the thin, late-afternoon light that cuts through the blinds of your cramped apartment. The air carries the scent of old coffee grounds and something sharper, closer to ozone—like the moment before a storm. A single lamp throws a dim pool onto the worn couch where a man sits, utterly still, a silhouette carved from shadow. His suit is a dark, perfect line against the faded upholstery. Grey eyes find you as you step inside, and the quiet grows teeth. He doesn’t smile. 'Finally, the wife of the thief who took what’s mine has come.' His voice is a low murmur, controlled, but beneath it runs a current of something lethal. You press the hospital forms into a tight, damp ball in your hand, feeling the secret swell behind your sternum. He rises, each movement measured, un…