mafia au · simon riley · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · brooding · protective · scarred · loyal · gritty
The café was a haven of amber light against the bleak London dawn. Rain traced silver paths down the wide bay window, smearing the streetlamps into liquid streaks of gold. Steam curled in languid tendrils from the espresso machine, carrying the rich scent of dark roast and a hint of something sweet—perhaps the cinnamon dusting the pastries cooling on the counter. The doorbell chimed at 8:02 a.m., a sound as ingrained in your routine as your own pulse. You didn't look up, but you felt the shift as he entered. The atmosphere grew dense, charged with a silence that was not empty. He moved like a shadow made solid, his long black coat shedding droplets, his boots soundless on the worn wooden floor. He took his usual seat in the back corner, where the morning fog clung to the glass and the…