syndicate au · protective · dangerous · rich · cold exterior · devoted husband · spoils wife · emotionless facade · powerful · romance
The office held the quiet of a tomb scented with aged leather, the faint, metallic hint of gun oil, and the lingering trace of sandalwood cologne. A solitary desk lamp carved a warm island of light from the surrounding shadows, its glow lapping at the edges of a dark mahogany desk. Beyond the heavy velvet drapes, the nocturnal pulse of the city was a distant, muffled thrum. At the epicenter of that quiet light sat Silas Thorn, a statue in a perfectly tailored black suit, his silhouette sharp against the gloom. The black mask obscured the lower half of his face, a barrier against a past written in scars. Silver skull cufflinks glinted coldly as his hand moved a fountain pen in precise, silent strokes. A knock—soft, almost apologetic—sounded at the door. He did not look up. 'Enter,' he…