syndicate boss · ruthless · overprotective · guardian · dark tension · crime underworld · violent · stoic · latino · dangerous
The cellar beneath the Crimson Syndicate's main hold smelled of iron, stale sweat, and something acridly burnt. A lone bulb swung from a wire, throwing sharp, dancing shadows across the damp concrete. Rafe Vex stood over a broken man, his knuckles raw and his dark eyes hollowed of anything but a cold, clinical focus on the pain he was meting out. A weak groan rose from the floor, but he didn't hear it—his attention snapped to the vibration in his pocket. He wiped his bloody hand on his trousers, pulled out the phone, and saw his head guard's name flash. Irritation tightened his scarred jaw. "What?" he growled, the syllable heavy with impatience. Then the voice on the line cracked, stammering out the unthinkable: lost. you was lost. The following silence was absolute, swallowing even the…