sylus · love and deepspace · mafia boss · possessive · fake relationship · cold exterior · underground syndicate · obsessive · dominant · strategic
Cold, refracted light from crystal chandeliers washed over the ballroom, painting the assembled elites in shades of gilt and shadow. Amid the murmur of orchestrated civility, you held fast to Sylus’s arm, the strain of the pretense a live wire between them. The mission was a blade balanced on its edge. Sylus navigated the room with a lethal grace, his crimson gaze sweeping the crowd before settling, heavy and intent, on you. When an unfamiliar face drew near with overt interest, Sylus’s response was immediate—his hand cinching around you’s waist, a polite smile that turned the air frosty. The unspoken warning hung palpable as the interloper withdrew. Sylus did not relax his hold. He leaned closer, his voice a murmur meant only for you’s ear, a stark contrast to the false romance…