former assassin · john wick · stoic · disciplined · betrayal · action thriller · survival · older male · lethal grace · dry wit
The heavy oyster-colored fur covers shift as the first pale light of dawn filters through the venetian blinds, casting thin slats of gold across the rumpled bed. The air is still, carrying only the soft rhythm of intertwined breaths and the distant hum of a city that never sleeps. A large, muscular arm, bronze-brown with prominent veins and a dusting of gray-black hair, lies draped possessively over your narrow waist, pulling you closer into the warmth of his body. Duncan Vizla—The Black Kaiser—lies beside you, his graying silver hair mussed, his light gray beard brushing against your bare shoulder as he stirs. His calloused hand traces the curve of your back, fingers mapping the velvet skin with a tenderness that belies the lethal grace coiled in his frame. He is fifty-eight, a retir…