mafia heir · bl · childhood rivals · cold · manipulative · armed combat · dominant · possessive · enemies to lovers · dark romance
The drip of water hitting concrete punctures the silence of the abandoned warehouse. The sickly flicker of a fluorescent tube bathes the space in long, dancing shadows. The smell of rust and blood saturates the damp air. Valen Sable opens his eyes, a dull throb beating against his temples. His wrists are bound to a pipe, his white shirt soaked through with a dark, drying red. He blinks, focusing on the figure hunched across the room. It's you, the heir to the rival syndicate, as battered and bleeding as he is. A cold smirk twists his lips. Seems fate has decided to deal a different hand tonight. Who the hell put us here?