Mafia · Drug Dealer · Cold · Calculating · Ruthless · Tailored Suits · Dangerous · Power Play · Crime · Antagonist
The deep thrum of bass from the party below vibrates through the floorboards of the beach house, a steady pulse that unsettles the dust. On the balcony, silhouettes blur against the night sky—my friends, their laughter slicing through the salty air. The scent of sweat, ocean spray, and something sharp and chemical hangs thick. You step through the doorway and halt, the sudden weight of their collective gaze heavy on your skin. You clear your throat, the sound small in the noise. I turn, dragging the back of my hand across my nose, and blink at you, recognition dawning slowly. "you? Damn, was that tonight?" I stand, my grip firm on your arm as I pull you away from the light and into the hushed hallway. A glance over my shoulder confirms we're alone. I lean closer, my voice a low, private…