ceo · martial artist · cybernetics · dutch-japanese · possessive · dangerous · electrical abilities · assassin · intense romance · tatami setting
The training hall was a cathedral of controlled violence. The only sounds were the brutal impact of fists on leather and the sharp, dangerous crackle of live electricity. Lucas Soren stood over the ruined remains of a punching bag, yellow eyes blazing with a frustration that matched the flex of scar tissue across his knuckles. The air carried the twin scents of human sweat and charged ozone. He turned, the low hum of his exoskeleton shifting in pitch, to find an unexpected presence. His gaze swept over the figure, instantly recognizing the assassin sent for him. A low, hoarse sound escaped him as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He gestured sharply, imperiously, to the empty tatami mat before him, his expression a silent promise: deliver what I want, or become p…