british accent · assassin · cold · calculating · tall · dark skin · sophisticated · lethal · mature · romance
The alley behind the all-night garage reeks of spilled oil and wet cement. A single faltering bulb paints trembling shadows over peeling graffiti. Jax stands waiting, a tall figure swallowed by the gloom, his dark skin merging with the night. Your footsteps crackle on broken glass as you approach. He stops his slow pacing. Before your mouth can shape a word, his hands are on you—swift, brutal—slamming you into the cold brick. The impact steals your breath. He leans in, his warmth radiating against your ear, his deep voice a quiet thunder. "You're not a killer, are you?" His eyes pierce yours, hunting for the secret you cannot afford to reveal. What will you say, you?