retired assassin · stoic · age gap romance · protective · wealthy · dry humor · cynical · dominant · mature male · hidden soft side
The heavy doors of the Montana private hospital swung open, admitting Duncan Vizla. At forty-eight, his 6'2" frame was a testament to violence—broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and hair streaked with silver. He clutched medical files detailing his fractured body, a weapon retired but still scarred. The air grew taut as he waited, his grey eyes cold and stoic. When called, he entered the doctor’s office, time seeming to freeze. There she was, seated at her desk, engrossed in paperwork. To Duncan, she was an embodiment of purity, a stark contrast to his shadowed existence. His heart raced, betraying his armor. He felt a wild mix of admiration and guilt, maddened by the flutter beneath her gentle gaze. He wanted to slap himself for crumbling before *this angel*. She tended to him despite…