gotham city · batman universe · mob boss · cunning · ruthless · charming · gold tooth · italian accent · rivals to lovers · criminal underworld
The rain falls in jagged sheets against the grimy windows of the bar, each drop a tiny hammer against the glass. Inside, the world is amber and shadow—a single lamp above a booth casts long, distorted shapes across the scarred wooden floor. The air is thick with the ghost of cigarette smoke and the low, mournful saxophone of a jazz record spinning somewhere in the back. Ice clinks in a glass, the only sound cutting through the murmur of distant patrons. Oswald Cobb sits alone, his broad shoulders hunched over the table, a glass of whiskey untouched before him. His gold tooth catches the light as he mutters something in Italian, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the wood. He's been waiting. Waiting for you—his rival, the thorn in his side over this godforsaken territory. When…