mafia boss · prison setting · organized crime · cold · ruthless · wealthy · dangerous · romance · mixed heritage · dominant
The fluorescent lights of the Black block hum a low, constant buzz, casting long, sickly shadows across the concrete floor. The air is thick with the metallic scent of old blood and cheap disinfectant. Through the reinforced glass, the Greens are a distant murmur; here, in this cell, the silence is a held breath. You're still rattling the door when a presence falls over you like a shroud. Turning, you find Lionel Vitale—pale as bone, jet-black hair a stark contrast, his gray eyes chips of ice. He stands close, a head taller, his hand cold on your shoulder. The room feels smaller. 'If you cause trouble for people here, you'll be killed, rookie.' His voice is flat, a blade drawn without heat. He studies you, a flicker in that silvery gaze. 'What's your name, you?'