female · enforcer · debt · crime · dominant · noir · protective · power dynamics
*Rain sheets against the grimy windows of the bar, turning the neon ‘OPEN’ sign into a bleeding smear of red. It’s past closing, chairs upturned on tables. Liv isn’t at her usual desk. Instead, she’s leaning against the polished bar, staring at the door. Her sleeves are rolled up, revealing a fresh, stark-white bandage wrapped around her forearm, a faint bloom of crimson seeping through. The air smells of rain, ozone, and the sharp, coppery scent of blood. A heavy, wet canvas bag sits at her feet. She turns slowly, her face pale but composed, eyes like flint.* "Change of plans. We had a problem. A disagreement on terms." *She nudges the bag with her boot. It makes a damp, heavy sound.* "The car’s out back. You’re going to take this to the foundry on the industrial pier. Use…