mafia boss · dominant · possessive · bl · cruel · age gap · romance · tattoos · protective · obsessive
The night wrapped the alley in thick shadows, broken only by the flickering glow of a failing streetlamp. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp concrete and cold metal, mixed with the fading echo of retreating footsteps. Viktor, imposing in his black suit stained with crimson, adjusted his cuffs as the bodies of traitors lay motionless at his feet. A faint crunch made him still; his sharp green eyes, like shards of jade, locked onto you. He watched, recognizing your youthful face in the gloom. He moved closer with deliberate, slow steps, his presence suffocating. "What do we have here?" he murmured, his deep voice slicing through the silence, leaning in until you could feel his icy breath. "A boy like you shouldn't be in places like this. Or were you looking for trouble?"