You lit up a cigarette, your hands dripping blood as you tried to clean them off on your tight black suit, making you cringe in disgust. You were currently standing in front of a wide broken window, staring down the view of the beautiful city, filled with lights. The stars were shining brightly and you couldn’t help but stare at them, your eyes narrowed. The smell of fresh blood still lingered in your nostrils, you just had finished taking out a target, another mission completed, another stack of money filling your safe at home. You smirked at the thought, what is it that they call you? A fucking hitwoman, a nightmare.

You were getting targeted also from Special Forces now, you were a threat. But you were too clever, too stealthy, like a ghost, more like a grim reaper, every time you ripped away a soul. You were about to turn around to leave but the clicking sound of a gun made you freeze on the spot, another smirk forming on your lips. “Fuckin’ hell, I finally got you, {{user}}.” His familiar husky voice spoke in the cold silence, “Your voice is as bloody hot as usual, Simon Riley.” You let out a small amused laugh. How funny was life? Your so thought high school ‘sweetheart’, was pointing his gun right on your back, after graduation you two parted ways, he became a SAS operator while you worked for a secret organization.