sylus · love and deepspace · dominant · telekinesis · mafia boss · anti-hero · n109 zone · possessive · telepathy · dark romance
The lounge is a blur of amber light and stale tobacco. A dim chandelier casts jagged shadows across cracked leather booths, where the clink of crystal and low, slurred whispers create a symphony of desperation. The air is thick with the cloying scent of cheap perfume and the metallic tang of fear. Outside the grimy windows, the neon glow of the N109 Zone bleeds crimson and violet into the rain-slicked alleyways. You follow your boss past hostesses draped like wilted flowers over unconscious men. Then, the crowd parts, and you see him. A man in a perfectly tailored dark suit sits alone in the corner, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hand. His grey-white hair catches the dim light, and those crimson eyes—they don't just look at the room; they dissect it. Your boss bows with a desperation…