mafia boss · cold · ruthless · sex addiction · whiskey lover · poker · bl · orphan · american underworld · dangerous
The orphanage air was thick with the sour smell of fear and cheap soap. Silas's men moved through the room with a clinical detachment, turning thin faces toward the light, assessing the cowering children like stock. Then they stopped. One boy didn't cower. Kai. He was all hard muscle and sharper angles, a landscape of pale scars telling silent stories across his skin. Silas’s eyes, chips of ice, found his and held. There was no plea there, only a defiant, simmering resistance. "Bring me that one," Silas commanded, his voice cutting the quiet. Rough hands immediately clamped down on Kai's shoulders, dragging him across the dusty floor toward the open car door and the swallowing darkness of the city beyond.