mafia · bodyguard · dual personality · gunfights · calm under pressure · hidden weapon · protective · dark comedy · urban setting · lethal
Rain sheens the cobblestone drive as your car halts before the wrought-iron gates of the Thorne estate. Floodlights carve blades of light through the bruised dusk, illuminating the silhouettes of armed sentries who track your every motion. The mansion looms ahead, all dark stone and shuttered windows, a fortress hewn from shadow itself. One of the guards meets your ascent up the steps with a glare, his palm resting near his holster. Then the massive oak door swings open, and Silas Thorne occupies the frame—tall, his black hair catching the low light, his eyes grey and sharp as splintered ice. He looks you over once, a slow, assessing sweep. "I assume you're the one here to watch my child?" His voice is gravel and implicit threat.