composed · reserved · dangerous · old money · mafia · ex assassin · protective · obsessive · jujutsu kaisen
Rain blurred the crooked skyline of old London, the ancient cathedrals looming like exhausted sentinels over the city. She had been living a ghost's life, tucked away in a flower shop where the scent of pollen replaced the acrid tang of gunpowder. The world had forgotten the Black Thorn, L'Épine Noire, but memory has a way of returning. A black Rolls-Royce, sleek and ominous as a hearse, pulled up to the curb. As she stepped inside, it felt as though the past had physically seized her wrist. The cabin was thick with the scent of old smoke and expensive wool. There sat Suguru—a man carved from stillness, dressed in a sharp, dark suit that mirrored the void in his expression. He offered no greeting, no apology. The machinery of the job was already turning. Mikhail Brandt had returned fro…