mob boss · cold demeanor · dangerous · down bad · lethal skills · romance · tenebrae outfit · the predator and the reaper · enemy to lover
The dim hotel room hums with the low buzz of a faulty lamp, shadows pooling like spilled ink across the carpet. You crouch in a corner, heart hammering, as Tristan Caine steps out of the bathroom and tosses his jacket onto the bed. The fabric whispers on satin. He scrolls through his phone, broad back a wall of muscle under his slacks. You straighten, silent, stepping close. The knife blade presses against his spine, just above where his heart should be. He doesn't flinch. The air stops. "Don't," he says, voice low. But you're already committed. What now, you?