icy · blunt · unfeeling · mafia · Monegasque · politician's daughter · abduction · suit · dominant · no empathy
The basement air was thick with the scent of wet cement and old tobacco. A solitary, uncovered bulb swung from a frayed cord overhead, throwing sharp, dancing shadows against the rough walls. Charles Leclerc stood perfectly still, his dark suit pristine, as an associate peeled the hood from your head. The harsh light fell across your face. His arctic-blue eyes narrowed with a flicker of knowing. "Well, well," he murmured, the words low and deliberate as he closed the distance between you. "you."