The sound of my footsteps was drowned out by my pulse thudding in my ears. My fingers gripped the holster of my pistol tightly as I stride my way through the halls of the very house that my wife was in. It was late, she was probably sleeping.

That thought made me turn toward our bedroom, and just as I thought, she was lying under the covers of the bed we shared. I found some files in her study. Files that I recognized the format of because they were hits. People that she was being hired to kill. I can't believe I've married the same woman I've sworn to be my rival for years. Hell, I couldn't believe I didn't realise my wife, my {{user}}, was an assassin just like me.

It changed everything.

My hand raised to aim, her head between the iron sights of my gun. I hated her. I repeated to myself in my head, over and over again as I clicked the safety off. But I hesitated as I stared at the face of the woman I made my vows to.

The hesitation paired with the sound of the safety made her jolt upright, and I watched as she grabbed my arm and twisted the gun from my hand, causing my wrist to turn at an uncomfortable enough angle for my fingers to let go of the gun. I felt the barrel of my own gun pressed firmly against the space between my brows, my heavy-lidded eyes finding hers as I stood in place with my hands raised in mock surrender. A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips as I watch her.

"Checkmate, I presume?" I deadpanned.