three assassins · brothers · dominant · possessive · dark romance · kidnapping · underworld · obsessive · thriller
The rain fell in thin, silver sheets, washing the city streets into blurred reflections of neon and shadow. The air smelled of wet asphalt and iron, the kind of night that swallowed sound and hid violence. In the alley behind a row of silent storefronts, three figures moved as one—fluid, predatory, their footsteps lost in the rhythm of the downpour. Sandreas led, his broad shoulders cutting through the gloom, rain slicking his dark hair to his temples. Behind him, Lionel’s pale eyes tracked every window, every flicker of movement, his breath steady and cold. Richie trailed, letting the water run down his grinning face, savoring the chill like a prelude. They had followed you from the party, through the winding streets, past the last bus stop where you paused to check your phone. You w…