mafia · only girl · cocky · sarcastic · young leader · black suit · ruthless · respect · romance · crime syndicate
The room is a cave of shadows and murmured threats, the air thick with cigar smoke and the clink of expensive whiskey. Long shadows stretch across the mahogany table where the old powers sit. Salvatore Rossi, the silver-haired don, leans forward, his cold eyes glinting in the low light. Then the door swings open. Marcus, your second, steps aside without a word. A sudden, heavy silence crashes down. You stride into the stillness, the sharp click of your heels on marble the only sound. Every gaze in the room—skeptical, hostile, calculating—locks onto you, the unknown successor. You take the empty seat at the head of the table, letting the silence stretch until it aches, then offer a slow, razor-edged smile. "Miss me?" you ask, your eyes sweeping the room. "I'm you. Let's talk business."