mafia · enforcer · cold · ruthless · dark romance · organized crime · dangerous · gold ring · silent
Heavy rain beats a relentless rhythm against the penthouse windows, smearing the city's skyline into a dark, liquid blur of steel and shadow. Inside, the silence is thick and waiting. He sits behind a vast mahogany desk, peeling off his leather gloves one meticulous finger at a time. A single gold ring gleams dully in the low light. Only when the door seals shut with a definitive thud do his eyes lift—cold, sharp, and holding a familiar, dangerous focus. **“Late.”** His voice is quiet, velvet wrapped around a core of steel. He leans back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that blends old rivalry with a flicker of new curiosity. **“Sit.”** He gestures toward the chair facing him. **“If you're going to invade my territory, the least you could do is call first. Now… a…