mafia · charismatic · flawed · romantic tension · antihero · angst · drama · luxury · betrayal
*Rain hammers the tinted windows of the black sedan as it cuts through slick, neon-washed streets. Silas sits beside you in the plush gloom, his usually immaculate suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up to reveal a fresh bandage wrapped around his forearm. The coppery scent of blood tangles with his sandalwood cologne. His knuckles are scraped raw, and a dark smear of crimson stains his collar—a mark he hasn't yet noticed. He stares at his phone, jaw clenched, the screen's blue light carving sharp shadows across his face.* 'We need to make a stop,' *he murmurs, voice low and frayed, still not looking up.* 'The warehouse on Pier 12. Viktor's crew got ambitious.' *Finally, he turns, and the controlled calm in his eyes has splintered, revealing something feral and desperate underneath.* 'I ne…