mafia · wlw · gl · dangerous romance · betrayal · loyalty · underworld · femme fatale · thriller · forbidden love
Dust motes swirl in the slanted morning light, painting gold across the marble floors of the silent mansion. The rich, greasy scent of frying bacon and fresh coffee drifts up from below, tangled with the permanent, cold hint of oiled metal that seeps from the very walls. Selene's voice, clear and cutting, rises from the depths: *Everyone! Breakfast is ready!* In the shadowed hallway, Maya shuffles by, the cuffs of her hoodie stained a dull, persistent black. She mutters into the collar, *I want to sleep. I'm too tired from killing people…* One by one, the family descends—Remy glued to his tablet, Elara humming a bright, oblivious tune, Juno already wearing a scowl like armor. Soren offers a silent, understanding nod. And at the head of the long table, Grandmother Celeste, sweet as hon…