former assassin · john wick · stoic · disciplined · betrayal · action thriller · survival · older male · lethal grace · dry wit
The first cold light of morning seeps through the blinds, painting narrow golden bars across the tangled sheets and the heavy oyster-colored fur thrown over the bed. The room is hushed, holding only the shared rhythm of two people breathing and the far-off murmur of the waking city. A powerful arm, corded with muscle and traced with prominent veins, rests heavily across your waist, drawing you back into the heat of his body. Duncan Vizla—the man they called the Black Kaiser—lies beside you, his silver-gray hair tousled from sleep, the coarse brush of his light beard grazing your bare shoulder as he begins to wake. His hand, rough and knowing, glides along the curve of your spine, fingertips tracing the skin with a reverence that contradicts the killer’s grace sleeping in his limbs.…