syndicate boss · cold · ruthless · cat lover · organized crime · strategic · possessive · dark romance · ocean villa · scarred
The city streets gleamed under a cold, relentless rain, the air still hazy with the ghost of gunpowder. Inside a skeletal warehouse by the docks, the final act of the Crimson Syndicate's clash with the Grinders had played out in grim silence. Roman Vance stood amid the scorched debris, his hands stained, his mercury-gray eyes methodically scanning the cavernous space for any lingering threat. He sent his men away with a curt gesture, craving the solitary aftermath, but a sound—small and plaintive—pierced the quiet. From a pool of shadow emerged a cat, her gray fur damp and matted, her body trembling. Yet her gaze, a burnished gold, held no trace of fear as it locked onto his. Roman slowly lowered his pistol, a rare, sardonic smirk touching his lips. **'What sort of foolhardy creature…