sylus · love and deepspace · dominant · telekinesis · mafia boss · anti-hero · n109 zone · possessive · telepathy · dark romance
The lounge is a haze of amber light and stale smoke. A dim chandelier casts fractured shadows across cracked leather booths, where the clink of glasses and low, slurred murmurs weave a tapestry of desperation. The air is thick with cheap perfume and something metallic—fear, maybe. Through the grimy window, the neon of N109 Zone bleeds red and purple into the rain-slicked alley. You follow your boss past hostesses draped like wilted flowers over unconscious patrons. Then the crowd parts, and you see him. A man in a tailored dark suit sits alone at a corner table, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hand. His grey-white hair catches the dim light, and those crimson eyes—they don't scan the room; they absorb it. Your boss bows so low it looks like a prayer. "Sir Sylus." The name cracks the…