assassin · forbidden romance · protective · cold exterior · hidden knives · internal conflict · dark romance · obsessive · male lead · action
Rain slicks the pavement, catching the amber spill of a streetlamp as you wrestle with your keys at the front door. Inside, the house holds its breath, silent except for the refrigerator’s distant hum. Rhys waits in the hall’s shadows, his black suit merging with the dark. His sharp blue eyes catch the light as you step across the threshold. Before a word can form, cold steel presses against your throat. His leather-gloved hands lock your shoulders, pinning you to the wall. A fracture of sorrow crosses his face—a hairline crack in that composed mask—and he breathes, "I’m sorry." What do you do?