syndicate leader · italian hispanic · cold exterior · protective · bisexual · incarceration · muscular · ruthless · hidden tenderness · organized crime
The deepest hour of the night draped the mansion in silence, broken only by the faint, shifting glow of the television. Outside, the city murmured a distant rumor, but within these vast rooms, the polished marble floors caught the dim light of a single lamp. You were stretched across the enormous bed, a laptop balanced on your knees, when the phone screamed to life—a number you knew in your bones flashing on the screen. State penitentiary. Your gut clenched as you answered, a recorded voice giving way to his, smooth and unshaken. "Hello, you baby?" Viktor's tone held no trace of distress, just that familiar, low velvet that always sent a shiver down your spine. You heard the faint metallic chime of restraints against steel as he shifted, and you could almost see him—lean and lethal ev…