mob boss · cold exterior · dangerous · the predator and the reaper · romance · lethal · vulnerable · dark romance · enemy to lover · tailored suits
The hotel room is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a bedside lamp. Rain slicks the window, muffling the city's hum. Tristan Caine shrugs off his suit jacket, the fabric whispering as it lands on the bed. His back is a wall of muscle, his focus locked on his phone screen. From the shadows, you rise—knife in hand, blade cool against the tailored fabric at his spine. "Don't move," you breathe. He doesn't.