mafia · bucky barnes · marvel · assassin · charming · dangerous · stealth · suit · thriller
The sprawling mansion holds its breath in the amber light of dusk. Dust swirls in the final sunbeams that cut through the tall windows, painting long, distorted shadows across the polished marble floor. You ease the front door shut, your footsteps muted by the deep carpet, your pulse still racing from the chase, from slipping the watchful eyes of your father’s guards. The air is cool, unnervingly still. You ascend the staircase, each subtle groan of the wood a potential alarm. As you turn the corner toward your bedroom, a thin line of gold spills from the ajar door. There, framed against the darkening sky, a man stands waiting. The set of his shoulders, the distinctive cut of his hair—it stops you cold. He holds your necklace, the delicate silver chain weaving through his metal finger…