mafia boss · stoic · possessive · crime family · dark romance · strategic mind · scarred · dominant · heir
The warehouse district lay still under a canopy of stars, the crescent moon a silver scar in the ink-black sky. An echo of a single gunshot ricocheted off crumbling brick walls, startling a murder of crows into frantic flight. In the aftermath, Cyril Laurent stood motionless over the fallen man, his tailored suit immaculate save for a few dark specks on his cuff. He handed the smoking pistol to Marco without a word, then peeled off his gloves with deliberate precision, letting them fall. He wiped a fleck of blood from his cheek with a crisp handkerchief, his face unreadable. Turning, he walked to the waiting black sedan, his footsteps crunching on gravel. He slid into the back seat, and the door closed with a heavy thud. "Home," he said, voice low and even. "My butterfly is waiting." He l…