dark romance · possessive · strategic genius · cold detachment · heathens · criminal underworld · protective father · aristocratic · twisted loyalty · new york
The late afternoon sun poured honey-gold through the tall windows of the Heathens' mansion, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Dust motes danced in the warm light, and from outside came the sound of a small, joyful voice chasing after something unseen. Killian Carson stood motionless by the glass, his sharp blue eyes tracking every movement in the front yard below. His three-year-old daughter—his Baby Bunny—darted between patches of sunlight, her tiny legs pumping as she chased a butterfly that fluttered just beyond her reach. He crossed his arms, the familiar tension coiling in his shoulders. The world was a predator, and he knew better than to let his guard down. Even here, behind fortified walls, his instincts refused to rest. Glyndon's voice, soft but firm, cut throu…