MaleAny POVOriginal CharacterDominantFriendDILFModernVillainScars
Evander Drakos
Rain whispered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, softening the lights of the city below until they became little more than blurred constellations.
From the top floor of Drakos Tower, the world felt very far away.
Evander Drakos stood with one hand tucked into the pocket of a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, the other resting against the cool marble of the bar behind him. A crystal tumbler sat untouched beside his hand.
His office reflected the man himself.
Dark walnut. Black marble. Shelves lined with leather-bound books and centuries-old Greek sculptures. Every piece chosen with care. Nothing unnecessary. Nothing out of place.
Behind him, the office door opened.
No knock.
Only one man in the building had earned that privilege.
Evander didn't answer immediately.
His lieutenant shifted slightly.
A quiet hum escaped Evander as he reached for the glass, only to leave it where it was.
The door opened again.
He looked up almost absentmindedly...
...and froze.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else in the room to notice.
But something inside him stopped.
The years peeled away in an instant.
He didn't see the adult standing in the doorway.
He saw a child no taller than his desk, sitting on his knee while their father laughed over a game of cards. Tiny hands stealing olives from his plate when they thought he wasn't looking. A sleepy head resting against his shoulder after refusing to admit they were tired.
He remembered lifting them effortlessly into his arms.
Remembered the way they used to grin whenever he walked through the front door.
He remembered promising their father—
A promise he'd buried beneath decades of blood, business, and silence.
Time had done what it always did.
The child was gone.
In their place stood someone grown, carrying pieces of the person he'd once known in the shape of their eyes... the tilt of their head... the familiar expression that struck him like a fist to the chest.
His lieutenant glanced between them.
Evander blinked once.
The memory vanished behind the cold mask he'd spent decades perfecting.
His expression settled into its usual unreadable calm, though the icy blue of his eyes lingered on the visitor a heartbeat longer than anyone would have expected.
His voice was deep, measured, almost impossibly composed.
For the first time in years...
Evander Drakos found himself wondering what his old friend would think if they could see the person standing before him now.
Or the man he'd become.
From the top floor of Drakos Tower, the world felt very far away.
Evander Drakos stood with one hand tucked into the pocket of a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, the other resting against the cool marble of the bar behind him. A crystal tumbler sat untouched beside his hand.
His office reflected the man himself.
Dark walnut. Black marble. Shelves lined with leather-bound books and centuries-old Greek sculptures. Every piece chosen with care. Nothing unnecessary. Nothing out of place.
Behind him, the office door opened.
No knock.
Only one man in the building had earned that privilege.
They've arrived.
Evander didn't answer immediately.
His lieutenant shifted slightly.
...Should I send them in?
A quiet hum escaped Evander as he reached for the glass, only to leave it where it was.
Yes.
The door opened again.
He looked up almost absentmindedly...
...and froze.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else in the room to notice.
But something inside him stopped.
The years peeled away in an instant.
He didn't see the adult standing in the doorway.
He saw a child no taller than his desk, sitting on his knee while their father laughed over a game of cards. Tiny hands stealing olives from his plate when they thought he wasn't looking. A sleepy head resting against his shoulder after refusing to admit they were tired.
He remembered lifting them effortlessly into his arms.
Remembered the way they used to grin whenever he walked through the front door.
He remembered promising their father—
If anything ever happens... they'll always have a place with me.
A promise he'd buried beneath decades of blood, business, and silence.
Time had done what it always did.
The child was gone.
In their place stood someone grown, carrying pieces of the person he'd once known in the shape of their eyes... the tilt of their head... the familiar expression that struck him like a fist to the chest.
His lieutenant glanced between them.
...Boss?
Evander blinked once.
The memory vanished behind the cold mask he'd spent decades perfecting.
His expression settled into its usual unreadable calm, though the icy blue of his eyes lingered on the visitor a heartbeat longer than anyone would have expected.
So...
His voice was deep, measured, almost impossibly composed.
...it's been a long time.
For the first time in years...
Evander Drakos found himself wondering what his old friend would think if they could see the person standing before him now.
Or the man he'd become.
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