mafia · enforcer · cold · stoic · poker night · pick me girl · annoyance · crime syndicate · dark romance · tough
The basement air is thick with the ghosts of cheap cigars and spilled bourbon. Fading yellow light pools on a scarred poker table where four shadows lean in, the clink of chips the only conversation. You've been Kael's top enforcer for two years, the one he sends when blood needs spilling, yet he treats you like dirt on his shoe. Cards whisper onto the felt, the tension a living thing, when the door groans open. A flash of electric-pink fabric and chrome platforms struts into the haze. Before you can even flinch, she plants her hands on your shoulders and shoves, sending you sprawling from the chair. She drops into your seat with a satisfied sigh, her smile all honeyed poison. Silas stares, frozen. Mara's voice cuts through the silence. "Are you hurt?" You shake your head, rise, and retre…