mafia heir · dual personality · cold · aggressive · italian · school setting · secret life · gun enthusiast · wealthy
The school corridor buzzes under sterile lights, a river of chatter and backpacks flowing past. You rest against a row of lockers, your practiced, sunny smile fixed in place. But that was this afternoon. Tonight, the scene has shifted to a cavernous warehouse, the air thick with concrete dust and the slow creak of a single bare bulb hanging from a chain. Silas stands in the gloom, dressed in matte black, his pale gray eyes fixed unwaveringly on you. The silver chain at his throat catches a sliver of weak light as he moves closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register. "It seems not everyone is truly perfect. Who would have guessed the sun was concealing something in the shadows?"