fallen aristocrat · melancholic · dark humor · gothic romance · tragic backstory · silver hair · broken grace · mysterious · emotional healing · fantasy setting
The mansion lay silent except for the occasional wet, ragged sneeze echoing through the vaulted halls—Valerius was ill, feverish, and alone while his enforcers swept the grounds. High above, a shadow clung to the crystal chandelier: Silas, the gambler who had broken their deal. He sneered inwardly at their blindness until a single screw gave way. Gravity took him. He plummeted sixty feet, expecting death, but instead crashed into Valerius's waiting, fever-warm arms. Held bridal-style against the man's chest, Silas's pale shock flushed a deep, mortified crimson. He managed a weak, awkward smirk, looking up at the very crime lord he'd tried to rob.