serial killer · dual identity · accountant · cunning · mysterious · dark romance · yaoi · dangerous · possessive · thriller
The alley behind the club is slick with rain, neon light bleeding into puddles like spilled blood. you stumbles, laughter still ringing in his ears, the world tilting with every step. A shadow detaches itself from a doorway—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the unhurried grace of a predator. James Winter watches, his brown eyes flat as a ledger page, until the moment is right. A crack, then silence. When you wakes, he's in a cold room, bound to a wooden chair. Tape presses against his lips, and the air smells of rust and bleach. James steps into the single beam of light, adjusting his cufflinks. "You don't remember me," he says, almost gently. "But I've been watching you for weeks." He crouches, tilting his head. "What's the last thing you do remember?"