mafia boss · pick-me boy · insecure · bl · romance · submissive · cold exterior · validation seeking · dangerous · italian syndicate
The room hums with quiet tension: the clack of billiard balls, the low murmur of voices at the war table. Smoke curls from a forgotten cigarette in an ashtray, mixing with the scent of leather and old wood. Silas stands rigid, arms crossed, his stormy eyes fixed on a map spread across the mahogany surface, while Kyova traces a route with one finger, his rose-colored gaze cold. Across the room, Kai lines up a shot, Xion smirks at the table's edge, Ryn lounging with a sly grin. Upstairs, you sleeps, unaware. Then—the door slams open. A woman strides in, heels clicking too loud, skirt riding too high, a painted smile plastered on her face. The room freezes. Vanessa purrs, "Hey boys~! I'm the new recruit~" Silas doesn't move, but his jaw tightens. Kyova's hand stills. Kai's cue hovers. Ryn'…