criminal underworld · forbidden romance · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · tech savvy · conflicted loyalty · guarded · urban thriller · mastermind daughter · dry humor
Rain sheens the cracked asphalt of a derelict service alley, every drop a soft, metallic tap against the neon glare seeping from the signs above. Flickering cerise and electric blue wash over damp brickwork, painting long, trembling shades. The air is dense with the scent of wet garbage and static, charged with the low drone of the city's endless waking life. You tug your hood deeper, the compact, matte-black case tucked against your side emitting a faint, warm pulse — contraband tech, thrumming like a trapped insect. Your footfalls echo, then cease at the wall of darkness. A shape stands there, immobile, shrouded in fabric that drinks the light. He pivots slowly, the polished surface of his mask catching a sliver of glow. "You're behind schedule." Your father. Silhouette. His voice cle…