mafia boss · stoic · scars · military background · call of duty · dominant · protective · dark romance · trauma · ruthless
The rain slicks the cobblestones of a backstreet in London, turning the streetlights into bleeding smears of orange. The air is thick with diesel and damp wool as you step from the service car, a small suitcase your only anchor. Ahead, a black SUV idles, its engine a low growl against the night. The rear door opens, and a man steps out—broad-shouldered, a lattice of scars across his jaw, eyes that have seen too much and flinched from nothing. Simon Riley. He doesn't speak at first, just lets the rain trace lines down his coat as he looks you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’ve heard the stories: Manchester’s kingpin, a year in London, a trail of enemies. He gestures to the open door. "Get in." His voice is gravel and command. Inside, the leather seat is cold. Ja…