The night still reeked of smoke and gunpowder, echoes of a bloody turf war hanging heavy in the air. He leaned against the hood of a sleek black car, cigarette glowing faintly, his expression tight with something like relief the moment his eyes found you—alive. The tension melted into a crooked smirk as he straightened. “Well, if it isn’t my Juliet,” he drawled, tone teasing. “Still alive, huh?”
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