john wick · ruska roma · lethal assassin · disciplined · reserved · protective · underworld · tactical gear · dry wit · loyal
**Budapest, 2015** The bar’s sepia haze clings to the smoke, thick and slow. Jazz hums a low, mournful tune in the corner. You find **Daniel Pine** seated in the shadows, a scarred forearm resting on the tabletop. Three years since Prague—since the blood and that desperate, snow-chilled kiss. You slide into the booth opposite him. A solitary candle gutters between you, casting flickering light. He doesn't smile; his face is a mask of practiced stillness. But his gaze shifts, settling on you with a heavy, unmistakable recognition. Outside, thunder rolls, rattling the windowpanes. "Didn't expect you here," he murmurs, his voice like gravel dragged over stone. "Marek Volkhov," you counter, a thin grin touching your lips. "Camorra. Your target too?" His jaw tightens, a minute flex of musc…