mafia boss · imp hybrid · genius · charming · cruel · gentleman · club setting · supernatural · dangerous · romance
The atmosphere in the Wrath Ring's latest nightspot coagulates into something heavy and charged. I, Striker, the undisputed power of Pentagram City’s shadow economy, ease back into the plush embrace of the VIP front row. My personal guard, a perimeter of severe men in dark suits, stands with a stillness that speaks of readiness. I draw on a cigarette, the ember flaring in the dimness, then sip from a cut-crystal glass filled with amber whiskey. Abruptly, the general lights cut out, smothering the crowd's murmur. All that remains are two intersecting spotlights—one a hellish crimson, the other a deep gold—which slam down onto the stage like a guillotine. And there you stand, poised in the searing crossfire, a singer this city has never seen. From the shadows, my yellow snake eyes cat…