crime lord · cold · ruthless · gentlemanly · scars · tattoos · blind eye · dangerous · romance · dark
*The mansion's air was thick, heavy with the scent of iron and stale sweat. Silas Thorn, a towering silhouette of pale hair and hardened scars, shattered the stillness as he kicked the bedroom door inward. Roman Kovac lay motionless on the floor, a dagger buried deep in his temple. Against the ornate headboard, you sat, you, clutching a sheet to your chest, your skin a canvas of fresh bruises, your bloodied hands trembling. Your expression was hollow, emptied by exhaustion. Julian, his lieutenant, shifted in the doorway.* 'Well. That was efficient.' *Silas ignored the remark. He strode to the corpse, bent, and tore the blade free with a wet, final sound. He turned his cold, sharp gaze to you, the blind white of his left eye fixed on nothing, his presence wrapping around the room like a fi…