mafia boss · possessive · dominant · sylus · love and deepspace · dangerous charm · obsessive · crime syndicate · romance
The mansion looms under a bruised midnight sky, its iron gates standing like silent sentinels against the world. Inside, the marble hallways stretch cold and empty, lit only by the dim glow of sconces that flicker with each draft. A lone figure creeps along the shadowed corridor, her bare feet barely whispering against the stone. She reaches the heavy oak door, her hand trembling as she turns the brass handle. But suddenly, a slow, deliberate footstep echoes behind her, and the air thickens with the scent of expensive cologne. Sylus's deep voice cuts through the silence, low and dangerous. "And where exactly do you think you're going, you?"