"Where are we going?" I giggled, my voice echoing faintly as we stepped deeper into the lavish space. The walls were painted white, the kind of white that felt too pure to touch decorated with haunting art and guitars mounted like silent witnesses. Each instrument seemed to hum with untold stories, each painting whispering secrets only the walls had heard.
The faint scent of leather, smoke, and cologne lingered in the air Slavvy's scent dark and intoxicating, wrapping around me like invisible silk.
"Come, we're almost there," he said softly. His tone was low, velvety, the kind of voice that didn't need to be loud to command attention. He guided me forward with a hand at the small of my back, his touch both protective and possessive.
The room we entered was twice the size of his previous one a masterpiece in black and white. The walls were sleek and cold, the furniture all sharp lines and modern design. Above the wide bed hung a giant poster of a guitar not just an instrument, but a symbol, its strings frozen mid-strum. A spiral staircase coiled elegantly upward toward a shadowed balcony lined with bookshelves, their spines glinting faintly in the dim light.
The air pulsed faintly with the hum of quiet music something soft, melancholic.
The whole place felt alive, like it breathed.
"What is this place?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"My kingdom," he said, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. "Well… my other kingdom."
There was something behind his words a mix of pride and loneliness that caught in his throat. It made my heart quicken in a way I couldn't explain.
"Okay," I murmured, forcing a smile even as my pulse thudded in my ears. The silence between us thickened, heavy with something unspoken.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, my curiosity slipping out with a nervous laugh.
He paused, his gaze steady. "Honestly, I don't know," he said quietly. "I just… felt like I needed you here."
His words sent a tremor through me. There was an intensity in his eyes, a hunger that wasn't just physical it was emotional, territorial, like he was fighting something inside himself.
I bit my lip, not even realizing I was doing it, until I saw the flicker in his expression the subtle darkening of his gaze.
"You should stop doing that," he said, voice rougher now, laced with a teasing warning.
"Doing what?" I asked, pretending not to know.
"Biting your lip," he said with a faint smirk. His tone was low, dangerous in its softness. "You don't even realize what it does."
A blush crept up my neck, my heartbeat fluttering like a trapped bird. The air between us changed warmer, thicker.
"Oh, you mean this?" I said playfully, biting my lip again just to mess with him.
His eyes flashed a predator's focus masked by a charming smile. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me.
I stepped back instinctively, but he followed the space shrinking until my back brushed the cold edge of the desk. His hands found my arms, gentle but unyielding.
"Slavvy." I started, but the way he looked at me steady, unreadable, intense made the words die in my throat.
The air crackled between us.
And then
The door opened.
"Boss," a deep voice interrupted.
Slavvy didn't move. His jaw tightened, his body still caged close to mine.
"Can't you see we're in the middle of something?" he said, his tone sharp, restrained fury simmering beneath the words.
The man hesitated, shifting nervously. "Sorry, sir, but Mr. Dominic would like to see you."
"I'm busy," Slavvy said flatly, his voice cold steel.
"Sir, he said it's urgent "
"I said I'm busy."
The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. The man bowed his head quickly and retreated, the door clicking shut behind him.
I exhaled shakily, stepping back. The tension that had filled the room was still there electric, volatile.
"You didn't have to be that harsh," I said quietly.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "That's how I am. I can't help it."
"Maybe you could try being nice sometimes?" I said softly, half teasing, half sincere.
"Me? Nice?" He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Being nice gets you walked over."
"You're nice to me," I said before I could stop myself. My voice was barely a whisper.
He looked at me for a long moment. "Yeah," he said finally, his voice softer. "And I don't even know why. I try not to be… but I can't help it."
There was a darkness in his eyes then something deep and dangerous that made my stomach twist.
"Look, Testimony," he said after a pause, his tone changing, quieter but heavier. "I'm not the simple guy you think I am."
My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
He turned toward the window, staring out into the city lights that shimmered below. "I'm not a regular guy. I'm the kind of man people don't cross."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, laughing nervously.
"I'm a mafia," he said simply.
For a second, I just stared. Then I laughed — unsure, disbelieving. "You? A mafia? Come on, that's movie stuff."
But he didn't laugh. His face stayed still, unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy, suffocating.
My laughter faded. "You're… you're serious," I whispered.
He clapped his hands twice.
And suddenly, the room changed.
The white walls behind him split and slid apart, mechanical and silent, revealing hidden metal shelves stacked neatly with weapons handguns, rifles, knives that gleamed under the faint light. The faint scent of gun oil and smoke filled the air.
My breath hitched. My skin went cold.
I turned to him, my voice lost in my throat.
He looked at me not apologetic, not cruel just honest.
And before I could process it all, darkness swallowed me whole.
"Testimony… wake up."
His voice reached me first smooth, steady, familiar. I blinked my eyes open to see Slavvy leaning over me, worry shadowing his face.
I gasped and pushed him away, scrambling backward until my spine hit the wall. My hands trembled.
"Stay away from me!" I shouted, my voice cracking.
He didn't move closer. His eyes softened not the eyes of a monster, but of a man burdened by too many secrets.
"You're not dreaming, Testimony," he said quietly. "This is my world… and you're part of it now."
My chest tightened. "What do you want from me?" I demanded.
He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor for the briefest second before locking back onto mine.
"I want you to trust me," he said finally. "I want your heart. Your loyalty. I want you to stand beside me."
I shook my head, my pulse hammering. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to."
He gave a half-smile — soft, dangerous. "I don't plan to. But once you've seen this world…" He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper that made my skin prickle.
"…you can't unsee it."
The room felt smaller. The air heavier. My mind raced, but my heart traitorous, reckless still beat for him.
He took one more step forward, stopping just close enough that I could feel his warmth.
"You're safe here, Testimony," he murmured. "I'll make sure of it."
But even as he said it, I couldn't tell whether it was a promise… or a threat.
And somehow, that scared me even more.