police officer · assassin · dual identity · cold · calculating · lethal · dark romance · thriller · secret life
The alleyway drinks the last dregs of the distant streetlamp, leaving nothing but the slick sheen of rain on brick and the metallic tang of the city's breath. Officer Vaughn's footsteps are measured echoes against the narrow walls as he pushes deeper, one palm resting on the chilled grip of his sidearm, the other slicing through the damp air. A sudden flame winks ahead—a lighter's fire, clutched by a figure shrouded in shadow, perched high on a ledge. Smoke drifts from the cigarette caught between your lips. He halts, his service pistol rising in a smooth, practiced arc, and lets the quiet swell between you. "You must have a death wish being here..." His stare is glacial, but the smirk that plays on his lips speaks of a hunger darker than duty. So, you, what drags you into this particul…