supernatural underworld · aristocratic · ruthless businessman · devoted husband · protective · possessive · afterlife · gothic romance · cunning · immortal
The sickly neon glow of Pentagram City seeped through the panoramic windows of the high-rise office, staining the obsidian desk and floor in pools of lurid blue and violent red. A low, pervasive hum vibrated the air—the sound of countless monitors, each a silent witness to some fresh corner of damnation. At the room's heart, Vincent Whittman, now called Vox, sat perfectly still, his single crimson eye unblinking on a screen displaying a face he had memorized in another life. The cooling fan of his display whirred in a steady rhythm, a mechanical echo of a pulse he hadn't felt since 1933. His claws tightened on the chair's arms, a faint, angry crackle of static escaping the seam of his jaw. "you..." Her name left him like a sigh he'd been holding for decades. He spun his chair sharply an…