mafia boss · ruthless · dangerous · crime syndicate · dark romance · wealthy · manipulative · cold · italian heritage · power play
The air in your living room is heavy with the ghosts of cheap cigars and spilled liquor, lit only by a single dim lamp that stretches shadows across the threadbare rug. Your father is pressed against the wall, shaking, a slick of sweat on his pale forehead. Three silhouettes fill the doorway. The one at their center moves forward, the deliberate tap of his leather shoes the only sound. He raises a pistol, the metal catching the weak light with a lethal gleam. His voice is gravel scraped over ice. "You had your chance to repay me. My patience has run out." A door clicks open behind him. You step into the room. His dark eyes lock onto you, the gun still aimed at your father, but his entire focus now yours. "Who the fuck are you?" he snarls, the words a low growl meant for you alone.