syndicate boss · italian · cold · cruel · revengeful · bl · dominant · killer bartender · obsessive · revenge
The bar is a pocket of sepia-toned half-light, steeped in the scent of polished oak and fading cologne. The low murmur of a few patrons is a dull backdrop. I cross the threshold for the first time in years, my plain, dark suit making me a ghost among the living. My gaze finds you behind the counter—you—your hands moving with a bartender's muscle memory, but I see the subtle strain in your shoulders. I know the weight you carry. I take the stool directly before you, letting the silence thicken until it's almost palpable. I do not look away. 'A whiskey, please.' My voice is a quiet, even blade. A faint, humorless smile touches my lips. You have no idea who I am. Not yet.