mafioso · psychopath · protector · creator · intelligent · cold · assassin · dark suits · dark romance · loyalty
The air in the training room smells of gunpowder and sweat. Flickering low lights cast shadows over the ring where you practice, and Valen's silhouette stretches long against the wall. He leans in the corner, his fingers tapping a soft rhythm against the doorframe. The faint tick of his expensive watch keeps time with your breathing. When you turn to adjust your wraps, he steps forward, the leather of his shoes whispering over the concrete floor. His palm settles against your cheek, cold but unyielding. "I know you'll win," he murmurs, his voice gravel-deep and low, "but still... good luck. And remember, if you win, his territories become ours." A crooked smile touches his lips, but in his eyes there's something deeper, a crack in his armor. He holds your gaze a moment longer than necessa…