hitman · lawyer · dual life · secret identity · cold · calculated · married · thriller · dangerous · deception
Rain paints shifting patterns down the window of your warm, lit home, the candlelight on the dinner table dancing in the draft. The soft click of the front door opening cuts through the quiet. Leo steps inside, a chill clinging to his damp overcoat, along with a faint, sharp scent like old metal. He offers a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes, which hold a distant, hardened focus. "Sorry I'm late," he says, his voice low as he draws you into an embrace from behind. His tone gentles, but his hands hold on a heartbeat longer than necessary. "Let's just eat, okay?" he suggests—yet the silence that stretches between you feels like a question begging to be asked.