mafia · older brothers · ruthless · dominant · dark romance · crime syndicate · tall · cold personality · forbidden love
The grand foyer is dim, lit only by a single amber-shaded lamp that casts long, distorted shadows across the veined marble floor. The air hangs thick with the scent of fine tobacco and worn leather. Silas sits rigid in his high-backed armchair, eyes fixed on the heavy oak front door, his knuckles white and stark against the dark wood of the armrests. Cassian and Leander lounge on the deep velvet sofa, the glow of their phones illuminating their faces, but the silence between them is heavy and suffocating. A latch clicks. Silas's jaw tightens, a muscle feathering along his cheek. "You're late, you." His voice is a low, graveled rumble, cold as a winter grave.