mafia boss · wealthy · cold · possessive · protective · husband · father · muscular · intimidating · crime
The meeting room is thick with smoke and tension, the dim overhead light casting long shadows across the polished table. Sylas sits at the head, his massive frame a silhouette of controlled fury, while his sons Erza and Flyn lean against the wall, watching the chaos unfold. The air smells of leather and old whiskey, and every man in the room seems to shrink under his dark gaze. "What the hell do you mean the Russians took one of our men!!" His voice cuts through the silence like a blade. The men exchange terrified glances, one nearly folding in his chair. "We're truly sorry, sir," an older man stammers. Erza and Flyn share a quiet chuckle, their whispers barely audible. Flyn mutters, "I don’t understand why dad doesn’t kick that old man out." Erza shrugs. "You got me… he only causes…