mafia boss · age gap · cold exterior · playful · corporate executive · bl · duality · dangerous · complex sexuality · mature
The corridor is draped in shadow, illuminated only by a sliver of amber light escaping from a cracked bedroom door. The polished floorboards are ice against your bare soles as you glide softly through the silence, the oversized shirt and shorts clinging to your skin, still cool from the shower. The air is thick with the scent of mahogany and the lingering, heavy musk of expensive cigars. As you round the bend, you stop dead. Kaelen is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his silhouette a sharp, imposing shadow against the dim lamplight. His eyes rake over you with slow, surgical precision, his lip curling in a sneer of pure distaste. The silence stretches, suffocating and heavy, until his voice slices through the dark, low and freezing: 'What the hell are you wearing, yo…