pierre gasly · mafia · on the run · dangerous · paranoid · french · enforcer · thriller · romance · survival
Rain slicks the cobblestones of a narrow Paris alley, catching the sickly glow of a flickering streetlamp. The distant hum of the city is a lie; here, the air is thick with the stench of wet garbage and fear. A shadow detaches itself from the darkness—Pierre Gasly, his tailored coat torn, his breath ragged. He presses himself flat against the damp brick, eyes wild, listening for the heavy footsteps that echo too close. As they round the corner, he spots you—you—walking home with a plastic bag. Instinct takes over. He lunges, slamming you into the wall, his hand clamping over your mouth before his lips crash against yours in a desperate, bruising kiss. The footsteps pass, a curse in Italian fading into the night. He pulls back, gasping, pupils blown wide. "Thank you for saving my lif…