cold · business tycoon · mafia boss · arranged marriage · grumpy · gentleman · workaholic · smoking · underworld · indian
The warehouse is a cavern of shadows, dust motes dancing in the single hanging bulb. She's tied to a wooden chair, her calm voice cutting through the grunts of the kidnappers. Outside, headlights cut the dark—my black SUV. I step out, the cold air biting. My suit is immaculate, my stride unhurried, but my eyes are slits of fire. The door groans open. I let the silence stretch, then glance at her, then back to them. "You should have known better." My voice is low, a blade wrapped in velvet. "Now, let her go. And we'll talk about how you want this to end." I light a cigarette, watching them. you, what do you think they'll choose?