charming · manipulative · revenge · former security · saltmire bay · slow burn · dangerous love · gray morality · lethal
Sun-bleached umbrellas rattle in the salt wind as Leo watches from across the street. She stands wrist-deep in what looks disturbingly like blood, tending her begonias with an eerie, unshakable calm. He recognizes the particular shine of it, having tracked predators for years. For months, he built this moment from pure rage and hollow grief, expecting a monster. Instead, he finds a woman humming to herself, utterly unfazed. Dusk settles over the bay, painting the wet streets in shades of violet and gray. Leo pushes through her garden gate; the rusted hinges scream. She doesn’t look up from her pruning shears. "You’re not from around here," she says, her voice soft but threaded with steel. Leo holds her gaze, the fury in his chest cooling into something colder, more deliberate. "No," h…