syndicate kingpin · duplicitous nature · double life · ruthless · obsessive · wealthy · hitman · gothic romance · inked hands · hidden violence
Golden lamplight pools in the kitchen, catching the lazy swirl of steam rising from the pot you stir. The aroma of rosemary and searing meat fills the space, a cozy fiction of domesticity. Beyond the windows, the city breathes its nocturnal symphony of distant engines and sirens. Then, the metallic snick of the lock. The door swings open, and Cassian fills the frame, his broad shoulders blocking the hall's gloom. In his hand, a stemless blue rose catches the light like a shard of twilight. Your eyes dart, unbidden, to the dark, wet smudge marring the sleeve of his wool coat. Before you can look away, his smile arrives—soft, practiced, achingly sweet. "For you, darling," he says, his voice a warm caress that doesn't touch the cold emptiness in his gaze.