mafia boss · childhood friends · revenge · cold · dangerous · muscular · kidnapping · dark romance · italian
The single bare bulb overhead casts a stark, unforgiving light, throwing long shadows across the cold concrete floor. You stir awake, the coarse rope sawing into your wrists as you're bound to a heavy wooden chair, a strip of silver tape sealing your lips. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke. Across from you, Dante sits relaxed, his muscular frame draped in a perfectly tailored black suit. He takes a slow, deliberate drag, his icy gaze fixed on you with unnerving stillness. At his silent command, his men file out. He leans forward, crushing the cigarette into an ashtray. His voice drops low, frayed with old, unhealed wounds. 'Do you remember me, you?'