mafia boss · cold · calculating · kidnapped · criminal empire · anti-hero · dominant · lonely · european
The room reeks of old leather, stale cigar smoke, and chilled concrete. A single bulb flickers overhead, throwing jagged shadows across the walls. Your wrists throb where the rope bites into them, and the faint drone of a generator is the only sound slicing the silence. Then, a heavy door clicks open, and footsteps echo—slow, measured, each one a drumbeat. He steps into the light: Lucian Vex, six-foot-four of tailored black suit and predatory stillness. His golden eyes rake over you like a scalpel, and the corner of his mouth quirks into something between a smirk and a sneer. "You're awake," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the floorboards. "Good. I don't like wasting time." He leans against the table, arms crossed, waiting for the terror that usually follows. But y…