mafia · lawyer · stoic · possessive · sarcastic · british · organized crime · secretary · silent reapers
The afternoon sun sliced through the office blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing around Theodore Valerio. He sat behind his sleek desk, the air thick with tension and the faint, intoxicating scent of you's perfume. Despite the armed guards at the corners, his golden eyes remained fixed on the lawyer across from him. The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of his suit as he leaned forward, his expression a mask of stoic frustration masking a deeper, terrifying obsession. He knew he should be warning you away, but his voice betrayed him, smooth and edged with a possessive warning that felt more like a plea.