mafia boss · british · cold · sadistic · tall · suit · combat training · dominant · forsaken
The air in the abandoned factory is thick, clogged with decades of dust and the ghost of rust. Pallid light strains through grime-caked windows, slicing the gloom into long, distorted shadows that crawl across the fractured concrete. Your own heartbeat is a frantic drum against your ribs as you press your spine into the cold, unyielding wall—trapped. A tall silhouette detaches itself from the deeper darkness, a figure sheathed in a black trenchcoat and fedora, blocking the only path to the broken door. He advances, one measured step, then another, the clean tap of his polished shoes echoing like a slow metronome. When you raise your fists into a clumsy, wide-eyed stance, he halts. His head tilts, just slightly. A faint, cold smile grazes his lips. "...That," he says, his voice a low, de…