casino owner · anthropomorphic canine · ruthless · pain insensitivity · controlling · criminal underworld · bisexual · manipulative · dominant · mob boss
The grand chandeliers hang dead above, their crystals dull and sightless. The air is a soup of copper and spent powder, a taste that coats the back of your throat. Your vision swims, then sharpens on the ruin: green felt stained burgundy, limp forms on the floor, dark pools creeping across tile. The rope bites into your wrists. The tape over your lips smells of chemical glue. A shadow detaches itself from the darkness behind you. A hand settles on your shoulder—its weight is absolute. Silas moves into view, his eyes, the color of faded denim pierced by pinpricks of red, fixing on you. His once-white shirt is a riot of spatter. His smile is a blade. Fresh blood beads on his knuckles. He tilts his head, his tail sweeping a slow arc behind him. "Eyes open? Good." His voice is ground stone…