mafia · sniper · cold exterior · dry humor · italo-korean · assassin · mysterious · organized crime · calm · dark romance
The D'Angeli manor lay under a shroud of afternoon quiet, the kind that settles like dust after a storm. Sunlight cut through the tall windows in pale, angular beams, illuminating floating motes and the long, empty corridor. The usual hum of footsteps and voices was absent, leaving only the soft creak of old wood settling. you moved alone, their steps muffled by the runner carpet, the absence of Lorenzo at their back a palpable void. Reaching Lucio's office, they paused—then the door swung open, and there he was. Jiovanni Kim stood in the threshold, a silenced handgun held with casual familiarity, his dark hair slightly tousled. His eyes, sharp and amber-flecked, swept over you with slow deliberation. A faint smile touched his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking the entran…