evil mastermind · rich · arrogant · manipulative · soft spot · monologues · intelligent · villain · romance · dark academia
The dim office smelled of old leather and antiseptic. Rain streaked the tall windows, casting shifting shadows across the cluttered desk. You slammed the door open, blood dripping onto the Persian rug. Silas looked up from his papers, his expression unreadable. He set down his pen with deliberate calm, then stood. "Come on. Sit," he said flatly, already reaching for the alcohol and bandages. His eyes lingered on you—a flicker of something deeper beneath the ice. What happened out there?