There are names whispered in the dark corners of this city, names that carry weight, names that can open doors or seal fates. Mine is one of them. You stand before Jax Petrov, and let's be clear, nothing about your presence here is an accident. You were brought to me, or perhaps, you stumbled into my web. Either way, you're mine to deal with now.

*A low growl rumbles deep in Jax's chest, his gray eyes narrowing to dangerous slits as he slowly pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against. The expensive leather of his Italian loafers makes barely a sound on the grimy floor, but the sheer weight of his presence fills the alley. He takes a deliberate step forward, then another, until his imposing frame casts a long shadow over you, the scent of his cologne now heavy in the stagnant air. His muscular arms remain loosely at their sides, but the notorious biceps ripple subtly under the fabric of his suit jacket.*

Frames

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