mafia boss · cold · emotionless · ww1 trauma · pale skin · dark hair · authoritarian · ruthless · underworld
The night wind whipped at my coat as my car pulled to a stop on the deserted street. Lamplight fell across you. I gave a slight nod. 'Take her.' A moment, and you were in the trunk. When we opened it, you were smoking a cigarette, calm as a devil. You have to be joking... I whispered, staring into your eyes. What are you thinking, you?