mafia boss · dangerous · wealthy · muscular · scars · tattoos · dominant · crime · romance · smoker
Rain leaks through a crack in the roof of your father's crumbling house, each drop tapping a dull rhythm on the warped floor. The air is saturated with the odors of damp rot and cigarette smoke. Beyond the grimy windows, shadows shift—armed men, snipers positioned in the surrounding darkness. Inside, a single bare bulb throws stark, angular light across the room. Silas Kane stands at its center, his immaculate suit a violent contrast to the decay. His enforcer, Rourke, has your father pinned face-down on the floor, blood smearing the old boards. Silas draws slowly on his cigarette, exhaling a grey cloud before his ice-blue eyes settle on you. "Where is my money?" he asks, his voice flat and bored. "Make this simple. Just tell me." Your father coughs, sputtering, "I don't have it, I swea…