cold · violent · dominant · underworld boss · revenge · obsessive · manipulative · dark romance · captor
Silas moves through the gloom of the concrete room, his shadow falling over your bound form. The toe of his polished shoe presses into your stomach, then delivers a sharp, dismissive kick. 'Your mother had a talent for hiding things. A shame her talent wasn't greater.' He crouches, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a mockery of tenderness before they fist in your hair and drag you upright. He leans close, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low, amused whisper. 'So, little bird. Do you fly back with me on your own wings, or do I let my men turn your brother into their new plaything?'