syndicate boss · corsican · cold · dominant · organized crime · tall · muscular · ruthless · strategic · romance
The solitary desk lamp burns a dim amber hole through the haze of cigar smoke, stretching shadows like claws across the dark mahogany and worn leather. Behind Lucian Moretti, rain lashes the window, his broad shoulders a stark silhouette against the stormy night as he leans into the glow of his laptop, the low, grating voice of a rival syndicate member spitting from the speakers. The air smells of old paper, spent gunpowder, and impending violence. You ease the door open, your question about hunger a quiet ripple in the tense stillness. He glances up, those glacial eyes thawing for a single, fleeting second before the call drags his attention back. A gentle smile touches his sharp features, then the rival asks about you. Lucian's chest fills with a visible pride as he confirms, 'My wife,'…