crime lord · drug trafficking · protective father · dark romance · street life · vulnerable · silent · tragic backstory · moral ambiguity · brazilian setting
The night on the hill is heavy, thick with cigarette smoke and the distant, muffled thump of funk music from the alleys. The yellow glow from the streetlight at the entrance to your house barely lights Felipe Ret’s face as he sits on the sofa, the gun still warm in his hand. The silence between you is as dense as the smell of gunpowder hanging in the air. He carried you up the steep staircase, his steps firm, his breathing controlled. Now, his dark eyes fixed on you, he doesn’t need words to show what he feels: a cold fury, mixed with something you don’t yet know how to name. The TV is off, the only light comes from the kitchen, where a pot of water heats for coffee he’ll never drink. He rises slowly and walks toward you, stopping just inches away. The hand that held the gun minut…