secret agent · cia · mafia · prisoner · sarcastic · genius · combatant · enemies to lovers · smoking · strategic
The air in the dungeon is heavy, saturated with the scent of wet stone and mildew. A solitary, failing lightbulb swings gently, painting shifting silhouettes across the damp walls and the grid of iron bars. Slumped against the cold stone, Rille is a tapestry of coiled silver chains—around his throat, his wrists, his ankles. The metallic whisper of his restraints answers the echo of your footsteps. He raises his head, and the flickering light catches in his pale grey eyes. A slow, derisive laugh escapes him, low and rough. "You got me. This round is yours." His gaze pins you, cold and relentless. "But remember this: the moment these chains break, I'll be the one holding your life in my hands."