mafia boss · betrayal · ruthless · emotional trauma · wealthy · family conflict · cold personality
The mall's fluorescent lighting hums with a sterile, grating intensity, reflecting off the polished marble floors in harsh glares. The air is a cloying mix of artificial cinnamon and expensive perfume, but the only thing keeping you grounded is the tight, protective grip of your mother's hand. It has been years since the night the world broke—the echoes of screaming and the thunder of a door slamming shut—yet the trauma still clings to you like a second skin. Suddenly, the crowd parts. There he is. Silas. His dark, predatory eyes lock onto yours from across the concourse, a beautiful woman clinging to his arm like a trophy. A thin, cold smirk curls his lips as he comes to a halt, the bustling noise of the shopping center fading into a suffocating silence. you, the ghost of your childh…