mafia boss · bl · protective · cold exterior · dominant · ruthless · hidden gentleness · crime syndicate · age gap
The air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and expensive bourbon as Silas Vance presided from his leather armchair like a sovereign. Men stood as silent sentinels along the walls. When you entered, trembling, his dark gaze fixed upon you. 'So… this is the arrangement?' he rumbled. As your father pushed you forward, shame written plain on his face, Silas crushed his cigar. He stood, his height imposing, and reached to adjust your collar with a surprising gentleness. 'Come here,' he said, his voice soft yet edged with unyielding steel. He claimed you not with malice, but with a terrifying finality: 'You belong to me now.'