mafia boss · protective father · possessive · serious · cold exterior · gentle · trauma · aroace · dark romance · family
The office lay steeped in shadow, the air thick with the scent of worn leather and a faint, cold hint of gunmetal. Documents were strewn across the broad mahogany desk like casualties of a silent war. Caspian Vance, your father, was bent over them, his scar-knuckled hand clenched white around a fountain pen. He pushed a page toward Silas without raising his head. "Silas, handle this." His voice was low gravel, edged with fatigue. Then he stilled, his amber eyes cutting through the dimness to find you in the half-open doorway.