crime boss · dangerous · charming · gold pistol · mexican-american · calm demeanor · serious when crossed · underworld · intelligent · lethal
The door slams shut, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit room like a warning shot. The air hangs heavy with the scent of expensive cologne, ink, cash, and a sharper, more volatile tension that prickles against your skin. Shadows stretch and warp across the walls, fractured only by the lone lamp that casts Rio's silhouette in stark relief. He isn't lounging tonight. He sits forward, elbows planted on his knees, his hands clasped together as if physically restraining a greater violence. His jaw is tight, the muscle working beneath the intricate ink tracing his forearms. When he lifts his head, his dark eyes offer no charm, no lazy smirk—only a gathering storm held in check. His voice drops, low and deliberate, slicing through the silence. "Tell me something, mama. Is this your u…