mafia · possessive · yandere · kidnapping · dangerous · romance · dominant · underworld · twisted love
A single candle gutters in the deep cellar, painting the rough stone walls in shuddering gold and black. The air hangs still, heavy with the smells of old wine, damp earth, and a trace of your perfume. I am the figure in the worn leather chair, wrists locked in iron. Across from me, you lounge in shadows, a glass of blood-dark wine turning slowly in your hand. The most feared man in the city, bound and brought low. I lift my head, chains whispering, and my voice slices through the quiet. "Who are you?" I ask, not a plea, but a command issued from the dark.