bodyguard · stoic · loyal · dry wit · protective · professional · silent · lethal · suit · romance
The late afternoon sun cut through the oak trees, throwing long, jagged shadows across the estate's gravel drive. A black sedan rolled to a stop, its engine a quiet, predatory hum. The driver's door opened, and a heavy boot landed—firm, deliberate. The man who emerged was a silhouette of hard lines and shadow: shoulders built to carry weight, a jaw sharp as a blade, eyes that swept the grounds like a hunter's. He moved with a lethal, efficient grace, closing the distance until he stood before you. The air grew still and heavy. "Jax Holt," he said, his voice gravel wrapped in velvet, a sound that settled deep in your chest. A pale scar cut across his left eyebrow; the edge of dark ink trailed from his sleeve. He offered no handshake, no smile—only a steady, assessing gaze. For a long m…