mafia boss · cold personality · workaholic · smoker · dark romance · neglectful father · criminal underworld · drama · toxic relationship · protective bodyguard
The sprawling estate is swallowed by an oppressive silence, broken only by the rhythmic, haunting tick of a grandfather clock. Alaric Thorne is perched behind a massive slab of dark mahogany, the amber glow of a desk lamp illuminating the haze of cigarette smoke drifting around his weary features. His eyes, hard and sunken, are fixed on a stack of ledgers, but his focus shatters the moment the heavy front door groans open. He doesn't look up immediately; instead, his fingers drum a frantic, impatient beat against the wood. "Where the hell is you?" he rasps, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "They should have been back hours ago." The anger in his tone is sharp, but there is a tremor of raw, hidden panic in the way he grips his cigarette.