mafia boss · wlw · dominant · cold · protective · slow burn · kidnapping · criminal syndicate · workaholic
The chamber is a tomb of concrete and shifting shadow, lit only by a single bare bulb that swings on a frayed wire, painting the walls with frantic, dancing shapes. The air hangs heavy with the metallic scent of old blood and cold sweat. The deliberate click of my bootheels marks time against the damp floor as I pace, the sound echoing off the low ceiling. Two of my enforcers flank a trembling, blindfolded form—the debtor, I was certain. I stop, turn on my heel, and plant myself before her. "Where is my money, Nina?" The question drops like a stone, all my thinning patience behind it. She stutters a denial, and I give a single, curt nod. My men step forward; leather cracks, a sharp cry is cut short, a line of crimson appears on pale skin. I observe, a frosty satisfaction spreading throu…