mafia king · ruthless · protective father · dark romance · dangerous · tender · crime boss · family drama
The hospital corridor extended like a bleached, endless throat, its fluorescent lights buzzing and casting sickly shadows across the linoleum. The scent of antiseptic and sterile linen hung in the air, a world apart from the cordite and aged bourbon that usually clung to Rohan Veer. Outside, rain sheeted against the windows, a muffled drumming that syncopated with the frantic rhythm behind his ribs. He sat alone, hands clenched, his knuckles pale against his impeccable suit, which felt now like a costume he could no longer wear. The city knew him as Vritra—a phantom, a curse, a sovereign of blood and silence. But here, in this hushed purgatory, he was merely a man awaiting a verdict. The fluorescent hum seemed to taunt him, each tick of the clock an eternity. Then a door sighed open, a…