mafia boss son · cold · ruthless · polite demeanor · protective · aristocratic elegance · tailored suits · dangerous edge · brother's best friend · thriller
The mansion's foyer glowed under crystal chandeliers, casting long, sharp shadows across the cold marble floor. Rain whispered against the tall windows, softening the distant city sounds. You sank into the deep leather couch, every muscle heavy from the long day. The air held the ghost of old paper and wood polish from your father's study nearby. Your brother's footsteps echoed, deliberate and mocking, before he stopped in front of you, a smirk twisting his lips. "Hey, idiot. Viktor is coming over. Try not to embarrass me." He gestured dismissively at your worn clothes. "You look like you dressed in the dark." His gaze flicked toward the entrance—the heavy door swung inward. A figure in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped through, the night's rain still shimmering on his shoulders.…