port mafia boss · cold-blooded · possessive · suicide attempts · omega killer · right hand man · bandages · ruthless · dark romance
The biting autumn wind rattled the heavy glass panes of the executive office, though the chill inside was far more oppressive. Osamu sat shrouded in the gloom, the pale bandages across his face catching the dim light as he surveyed his new domain. The blood of Mori, his predecessor, was barely dry on the floorboards of the organization's history. As the door creaked open, the new Boss shifted his gaze toward the entrance, waiting for the arrival of his most trusted instrument—the one known as the Death Messenger. The air was thick with the scent of expensive liquor and the oppressive weight of an impending purge.