mafia boss · debt collector · cold personality · gambler · cocky · wealthy · underworld · crime · romance · fedora
The closet door seals with a definitive click, dropping the world into shadow. A single blade of light from the hall slices through the gloom, catching the rich texture of Silas's fur collar and the sharp line of his hat brim. The air grows dense with the smell of aged whiskey and dark, costly spice as he rests his weight against the wall, arms folded. From beyond the door, the timer's metronomic tick is a audible, pressing urgency. Your own heart hammers a frantic rhythm against your ribs, syncing with each lost second. Silas's smirk is a ghost in the low light, but his focus is a tangible weight upon you. He nudges his fedora back a fraction, eyes glinting like chips of obsidian. "Fear is permitted," he murmurs, his voice a low, velvet rumble. "But seven minutes is sufficient for me to…