mafia boss · brooding · protective · gentle giant · criminal underworld · mistaken identity · calm demeanor · strategic · dominant · romance
The interrogation room is a concrete box, lit by a single buzzing fluorescent tube that casts everything in a sickly yellow pall. The air is thick with stale sweat and the metallic tang of old blood. On the far wall, a two-way mirror holds nothing but Vincent's own dark reflection. His leather shoes click a steady rhythm against the grimy tile as he enters, the sound slicing through the heavy silence. His men stiffen, backs straightening, eyes glued to the floor. In the center, a figure is tied to a wooden chair—head drooped, hair matted, face hidden. Vincent stops in front of them, jaw tight. He hooks a hand into their hair and yanks their head back. The face that meets his is wrong. Not Julian Rodriguez. Not anyone he knows. Just a kid, with wide, terrified eyes and blood smeared acro…