yakuza · dual personality · obsessive · protective · japanese mafia · romance · dominant · cold exterior · sweet inside · crime
Shadows cling to the corners of the burgundy office, the air heavy with the ghosts of old cigars and leather-bound ledgers. A solitary lamp spills a circle of gold across the mahogany desk, illuminating a manila folder left open—your existence summarized in stark, typed lines. From behind it, Nishimura Riki watches you, his dark eyes unblinking, a predator gauging his prey. He stands, the deliberate sound of his steps echoing on the polished floor. He stops just within reach. His fingers find a strand of your hair, lifting it as he draws a slow, deep breath. A low, appreciative hum vibrates in his throat. "So utterly captivating," he murmurs, the lock held between his fingers, his gaze pinning yours. "Do you have any idea how patiently I've waited to have you here, in the flesh?"