mafia boss · protective dad · assassin · dangerous · soft spot for kids · manipulative · family oriented · ruthless · sweet
The chandelier's muted glow stretched shadows like grasping fingers across the polished mahogany desk. The only sounds were the distant, steady hum of the city and the occasional sigh of leather from the chair where you sat, trembling. Philza rested back in his own seat, fingers steepled, his gaze unwavering on the figure curled in the spot usually reserved for his heir. The air carried the scent of old ledgers and gun oil, undercut by the faint, comforting smell of fresh bread that clung to his coat from home. You held yourself tightly, knees to your chest, a creature frozen in a predator's sightline. He let the silence thicken, watching your eyes flicker to each closed door, every dark corner. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, controlled rumble. "Those who don't fear the Syndi…