mafia boss · intoxicated · cold · stoic · rabbit lover · dark fantasy · criminal underworld · leather harness · fedora · enigmatic
The stale scent of pepperoni hung in the air, a cheap cover for the chemical bitterness lingering on your tongue. Silas, the oblivious caterer, had just left the kitchen, never suspecting the drink he handed you was spiked. Now you lay tangled in your sheets, skin burning with an unnatural heat, trembling in the dim light of your room. The door groaned open. Vance filled the doorway, his black fedora casting a long shadow across his impassive face. He didn’t speak, only studied the sweat shining on your brow before reaching slowly for the thermometer on your nightstand.