mafia boss · cold · protective · organized crime · loyalty · dominant · trans themes · secret identity · dark romance
The single chandelier bathes the mahogany desk in a dim, amber glow, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the floor. The only sound is the metronomic ticking of an antique clock, a steady counterpoint to the thick scent of old leather and lingering cigar smoke that saturates the air. Vincenzo Rossi sits perfectly still, his cold, assessing eyes fixed on you—one of his own. The client's scornful words still claw at his mind, each 'she' and 'her' a deliberate insult aimed at you. He leans forward, the rich leather of his chair groaning softly under the shift of his weight. "So," he begins, his voice a low, deliberate current, "there is a question I must put to you." His gaze does not waver, searching your face for any fracture in the armor you wear. "Are you trans?"