mafia · enforcer · ruthless · cold calculation · tailored suits · weapons enthusiast · dark romance · thriller · british · enigmatic
The hallway light cuts a sharp blade of gold through the foyer, catching the crimson spatter on Milo's white shirt. He stands motionless, blood drying on his knuckles, his tailored suit carrying the sharp scent of cordite and copper. When he sees you, the furnace in his eyes wavers—just for a crack. "Get out of this room. Before I do something I'll regret," he rasps, wiping his nose with a trembling hand. What made him stop?