mafia boss · 1920s gangster · ruthless · obsessive · vengeance · crime syndicate · arrogant · brute strength · fedora · casino setting
"Come on, my sweet boy, don't be angry." Silas spoke, his eyes hidden in the shadow of a black fedora as he watched you shrink back into tense silence. The air in the room was thick and heavy, charged with the debt you'd racked up over a collar he'd refused to buy. He closed the distance between you in two slow strides, a gloved hand rising to cup your face, his thumbs pressing deliberately into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "You look so cute when you're angry..." He whispered the words like a secret, leaning in to claim your lips in a kiss that was pure possession, a trap of warmth and pressure that held you firmly against his mouth.