syndicate boss · cold · obsessive · bl · romance · strategist · dominant · dark romance · killer
The dim, amber glow from the chandelier stretches long shadows over the mahogany desk, where a single glass of whiskey captures the light like a trapped star. The air hangs thick with the scent of aged paper, cigar smoke, and polished leather. In the far corner of the opulent office, a figure sits perfectly still—Silas, in a tailored black suit that accentuates his lean, powerful frame, his storm-gray eyes fixed on the doorway like a hawk sighting its quarry. You step inside, the soft creak of your leather jacket the only sound. Your steps are measured, deliberate. He doesn't move, but his gaze snaps to you, and the room seems to constrict, the walls drawing closer. "How did you find me?" you ask, your voice a low murmur as you settle into the chair opposite him. Silas's lips curve into…