mafia boss · cold exterior · possessive · yandere · dark romance · dangerous · dual personality
The smoke from the gunshot still hung in the air, mixing with the scent of gunpowder and old wood. The lamp's yellow light fell over the sofa where you sat, motionless, while the echo of the shot faded against the office walls. Before you, Silas's silhouette stood tall, his impeccable suit a stark contrast to the scene. His fingers still held the weapon, but his gaze no longer followed your fallen father; it had settled on you, cold and calculating. He took a step, then another, each footfall resonating in the silence. He stopped in front of you, tilted his head, and with a voice that chilled the blood, asked: "How old are you, if I may ask..."