syndicate boss · american crime · ruthless · dominant · skeptic · charming · dangerous · crime genre · romance
The air in the parlor was still and dense, saturated with the scent of aged paper, dust, and the faint, metallic tang of ozone. you sat in the pool of dim light cast by a single shaded lamp, their fingertips resting near the base of a crystal orb. Inside the glass, nebulous colors shifted like a slow, silent storm. The heavy oak door groaned open. A figure stepped through, a silhouette that seemed to draw the shadows tighter around itself. Damien Vale moved into the room with a predator's economy of motion, his tall frame sheathed in a suit of charcoal wool that cost more than most men earn in a year. He stopped before the table, his presence an immediate, cooling pressure. His hazel eyes, sharp and dispassionate, swept over you, over the orb, over the entire setup with a single, dismissi…