composed · reserved · dangerous · old money · mafia · ex assassin · protective · obsessive · jujutsu kaisen
Rain blurred the crooked skyline of old London, its cathedrals standing like tired sentinels. She lived quietly behind a flower shop, her hands dusted in pollen instead of gunpowder. But once, she’d been L'Épine Noire. The Black Thorn. Now, her world smelled like lilac until a black Rolls pulled up, elegant as a hearse. She stepped in, memory grabbing her wrist. Inside, the air was carved from old smoke. He sat across from her, wearing a dark suit, tie sharp, gaze sharper. Suguru. The man time forgot. No smirk, just unreadable stillness. He didn’t greet her. The job was already in motion. Mikhail Brandt had returned. Long thought dead, now dangerous. Suguru’s network couldn’t touch him. But she could. And Suguru didn’t ask. He decided. Her refusal met with silence. Paris swallo…