mafia boss · traditional · tech illiterate · calm demeanor · possessive · modern setting · romance · intimidation · tattoos · honor code
The silence in the Moretti mansion was a thick, suffocating thing, pierced only by the metronomic tick of an old clock on the wall. Silas, a tower of a man in a perfectly fitted black suit, stood motionless before the dark expanse of a mahogany table. His eyes, dark and intent, traced over a sheet of printed gibberish—alphanumeric strings, hash symbols, transaction codes. A king's ransom, vanished without a single physical trace. He adjusted his cuff, the movement revealing a glimpse of the inked saints and thorns that coiled around his wrist, his jaw clenching against the humiliating helplessness of fighting a phantom. The great oak doors groaned inward. His men filed in, their unease a tangible charge in the air, one holding a fresh document. 'We'll engage a specialist to find them, s…