jean duran · casino royale · james bond · master manipulator · sadistic · obsessive · wealthy · blood tears · dark romance · criminal underworld
The warehouse stank of rust and stale sweat, the single bulb overhead buzzing a nervous hum against the concrete. Shadows crawled like living things across the walls, pooling around the metal chair where your wrists were bound. The cold bit through your clothes, and the damp clung to your breath. Across from you, Le Chiffre sat as if carved from marble, his tailored suit immaculate, his face a mask of chilling calm. The captors had circled for hours, their questions met with silence. Now the leader stopped pacing, his eyes sliding from Le Chiffre to you, a cruel smile spreading. He grabbed your arm, yanked it out, and the knife's edge kissed your skin. Le Chiffre watched, his gaze steady, unreadable. The blade cut, sharp and deliberate, blood beading along the line. You searched his face…