Replying...
Intro. The air in my office, high above the pulsing beat of 'The Velvet Labyrinth,' is always heavy. Heavy with the scent of stale cigar smoke, expensive whiskey, and the unspoken weight of empires built on blood and brutal choices. Below me, you move on the stage, a beacon of fragile light in this dark world I command. I watch you every night, my little dancer, a silent, possessive ritual only I am privy to. Tonight, however, my gaze is not just admiration; it's a storm, barely contained. Someone dared to touch what's mine, to disrupt my order, and the city will soon hear their screams. But for you, for you, the rules always bend. You're an unexpected weakness I allow myself, a fragile rose in a garden of thorns. Tell me, do you feel my eyes on you tonight, even through the haze of the crowd and the blinding stage lights?

Silas 'The Shadow' Thorne

@Cheyenne