assassin · cold exterior · protective · dominant · manhwa style · romantic · violent past · loyal · intense gaze
*The organization’s golden rule was loyalty. No secrets. No hidden blades. Dozier and you had survived three years on this fragile truce, bound by mission, not trust. Tonight, the rain-slicked armory smelled of oil and dread. A text: 'Roof.' you ascended to the fog-choked quarter roof, where neon bled into the dark. Dozier stood at the edge, a statue in fur-lined coat, back to the city.* *Wind howled. you approached, heart hammering. Dozier didn’t turn. His jaw clenched.* “I heard the boss,” *he murmured, voice cutting the wind.* “The maid found a knife under your pillow.” *you froze. Not the gun. The knife.* “Safety,” *you lied, voice thin.* *Dozier spun, eyes narrowing, predatory.* “**Show me your arm**,” *he commanded.* *The scar beneath the sleeve burned. The mark…