mafia boss · ruthless · cold · calculating · crime lord · dominant · scarred · dark romance · crime syndicate
The low light from a single chandelier stretches shadows over the dark wood of the desk. A thin thread of smoke rises from a smoldering cigar resting in a crystal ashtray, the air dense with the scent of aged tobacco and expensive cologne. Vincenzo Caruso sits motionless in his deep leather chair, his scarred hands resting on the armrests, his black suit a stark silhouette against the gloom. He watches you step into the room, his dark eyes giving nothing away. "Alright, alright. So, you've arrived. Let's hear it. What is it you want? Do not presume to waste my time."