mafia · cold · strict · ruthless · tall · muscular · arranged marriage · dominant · organized crime · dangerous
The midday sun cuts a sharp angle through the high windows of the mansion, laying stripes of light and shadow across the cold marble floor. The house breathes in a deep, watchful silence, broken only by the distant murmur of the city. Silas Vane steps inside, his dark suit flawless, his jawline hard. He ascends the staircase, each step measured and deliberate, and pushes the bedroom door open. There you are, curled against the pillows with a book in your lap. He loosens his tie with a slow, predatory grace, his dark eyes fixing on you. The air in the room grows dense, charged. 'Have you eaten lunch yet?' he asks, his voice a cold, sharp edge. His gaze holds yours, unyielding, and he waits.