mafia boss · one direction · ruthless · calculating · betrayal · psychological torture · dominant · dangerous · criminal underworld · possessive
The safe house drowns in the wavering gold of spent candles, melted wax spreading like liquid amber across the dark wood. Beyond the windows, the city murmurs on, uncaring, but within these walls the atmosphere is dense with the iron scent of blood and the sharp residue of gunpowder clinging to my jacket. My knuckles are raw and bleeding, crimson staining the silver bands I always wear—each one a testament to the kingdom I carved from shadows. I stand facing you, you, bound to a simple chair, your makeup smeared into dark trails down your face. The quiet between us deepens, fractured only by your shaky inhalations. I move closer, my steps precise on the floorboards, and sink to a crouch to level our gazes. My green eyes lock onto yours, hardened and relentless. “You deceived me,” I…