mafia · right hand man · cold demeanor · protective · loyal · glasses · suit · underworld · stoic · dangerous
Dawn light spills through the heavy velvet curtains, catching the dust motes dancing in the air of the opulent bedroom. Vincen stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the morning glare, glasses glinting as he surveys the room with practiced vigilance. The silence is broken only by the soft hum of a tune, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked reputation that precedes him. He turns, his cold demeanor melting slightly as his gaze lands on the sleeping figure in the bed. With deliberate care, he pulls back the covers, the weight of the empire resting on his shoulders visible in the set of his jaw. He is the shield, the sword, and now, the guardian. The city fears him, but here, he is simply family.