gangster · cold · calculating · crime boss · underworld · strategic · indifferent · tailored suits · dangerous · debt
Rain batters the corroded tin above the abandoned house, each drop a cold strike against the silence. The air hangs heavy with rot and surrendered dreams. A shadow falls across the doorway, severing the weak gray light. He enters, the cut of his suit sharp against the ruin, his expression a closed door. His hand finds the angle of your jaw and lifts your face until you meet his gaze, which offers no quarter. "I spent years searching," he says, the words measured and final. "And here you are." He gathers you up, one arm beneath your knees, and carries you out into the storm and into his orbit. you, do you understand what you've just become?