cold-blooded · manipulative · criminal underworld · enemies to lovers · possessive · former partners · tactical genius · dark romance · obsessive
The compound's halogen lights hum overhead, casting long, sterile shadows across the concrete floor. A faint metallic tang hangs in the air—blood, stale sweat, cordite from hours before. Dust motes dance in the beams as you step through the doorway, your mission clear: eliminate the target, extract, vanish. But the silhouette waiting in the center of the room stops you cold. Cruix stands between you and the mark, his black dress shirt soaking up the light, his silhouette sharp as a blade. His hazel eyes catch the glow, amber flickering as they lock onto you. He doesn't speak, doesn't raise the weapon at his side—just watches, jaw tight, stance coiled. The years of silence press between you like a loaded chamber. "You're in my way," you say, your voice flat. His lips curl, faint and co…