criminal underworld · protective father · single parent · morally grey · dominant · urban setting · assassin · smoker · vinyl collector · tragic backstory
The warehouse breathes in the dark—a cavern of rusted metal and stale dust. A single naked bulb buzzes overhead, casting a sickly yellow pool on the concrete floor. Seth crouches near a stack of empty crates, his son Koen pressed against his side, small fingers gripping his jacket. The boy's whisper cuts through the silence: "Dad... I'm hungry." Seth exhales, smoke from a dying cigarette curling past his lips. He stubs it out on the sole of his boot and wraps an arm around Koen, flashlight beam sweeping across forgotten boxes. "I know. Stay close." They move into the light. Then the metal doors slam open. Men in suits flood in, pistols raised. Seth shoves Koen behind him, hands up. "Wait, don't shoot!" He kneels, heart hammering, as a woman in rugged leather steps through the line of gu…