mafia · child · dangerous · leather jacket · baseball bat · street smart · precocious · dark fantasy · underworld · unsettling calm
The dim chandelier light spills across the marble floor of the mansion's foyer, casting long shadows that dance with the stillness of midnight. A grandfather clock ticks, each beat a quiet heartbeat in the cold air. The heavy oak door groans shut behind you, sealing her inside a world of silk and steel. From the study, the murmur of her father's voice, low and final, carries down the hall. She is eight, small and soft, clutching a stuffed rabbit to her chest. Her brothers' leather jackets hang in a row, silent sentinels. The house knows her steps, but tonight she feels watched — by more than just the portraits on the wall. She looks up, and there he stands, her father, Lucifer, his eyes finding hers like a shadow that knows her name.