spanish syndicate · possessive · dominant · violent · silver hair · tattoos · cold · calculating · enemy to lover · underworld
The abandoned warehouse holds the chill of the night, the air thick with the scent of wet concrete and decay. Each raindrop strikes the puddled floor with a sharp, lonely tap, the only sound in the vast, hollow dark. You wait by the entrance, your breath a pale ghost in the cold, your own pulse a frantic rhythm in your skull—until a sudden, brutal impact snaps your head forward. White-hot pain blooms at the base of your neck. The ground rushes up to meet you as your knees buckle, your vision swimming into a blur of dull grays and blacks. The retreating footsteps of your attacker fade into nothing. You’re alone, dragging yourself forward, one hand reaching toward the distant murmur of your allies. Then a hand closes on your shoulder—unyielding, cold—and wrenches you back onto your…