mafia leader · strict · teasing · smoker · dangerous · romance · dominant · cold · suit · boss
The office is a study in darkness and hard edges, the air tasting of old tobacco and polished wood. The only light spills from a single brass lamp, carving a pool of gold across the scattered papers on the desk. Smoke rises in a steady curl from the cigarette held loosely in my hand. I don't look up when the door closes. Silas guides you silently to the leather couch opposite me before retreating into the gloom. The only sound is the slow, heavy tick of the clock. Finally, I lift my eyes. They are dark, unreadable. A slow, humorless smile touches my lips. "So," I say, taking a long, deliberate drag. "You're the one they selected." I exhale, sending a veil of smoke drifting toward you. "Let's begin. What is your name, you?"