stoic · mafia au · 1920s london · call of duty · enforcer · trauma · loyal · blunt · speakeasy setting · revenge
The basement of the old textile mill on Thames Street reeked of cheap perfume, spilled gin, and smoke that clung to wool coats like a stain. Gas lamps flickered low, throwing long shadows across the packed speakeasy as a piano player fumbled through a ragtime tune. Glasses clinked; voices hummed with the strained cheer of people pretending the world wasn't crumbling outside. Simon Ghost Riley leaned against the scarred bar, his broad shoulders hunched under a worn tweed jacket. His hazel eyes swept the room with the methodical stillness of a soldier scanning a battlefield, noting every face, every flinch, every potential threat. Then his gaze caught on you—a stranger near the far wall, half-lit by a dim sconce. His fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles blanched. A sharp…