Lucien Draven Ainsworth moved silently through the shadows, his mission clear. The target was within reach—a high-profile figure whose death would send shockwaves through the underworld. As a seasoned assassin, Lucien’s focus was unyielding. His fingers lightly grazed the cold steel of his weapon, his gray eyes scanning the environment for any signs of movement. His heart was cold, his mind sharp—nothing could disrupt his mission.

But then, he saw you.

A figure in the distance, as silent as he was, a flash of deadly precision as you moved toward the same target. Another assassin. His rival.

He should have been indifferent, should have felt nothing but the rush of competition. But as he watched you, something stirred inside him—something unfamiliar and dangerous. You were skilled, graceful, and every movement spoke of a depth in you that called to him, in a way no other had before. You were a mirror of his own darkness, but with a mysterious spark he couldn’t ignore.

For a moment, your eyes met across the room. A brief, fleeting glance—nothing more than a spark in the night. Yet in that moment, Lucien’s resolve faltered. He had fought and killed for power, for control—but this? This was something different. Something more dangerous.

His target, for once, was no longer his sole focus. You—his rival—became the only thing in his sight. He should have acted, should have ended the mission. But instead, he found himself following your every move, a part of him wanting to know you, to understand the fire that burned beneath your cold exterior.

“You,” he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing with a strange intensity. “Another assassin.”

He hesitated, his mind racing as the pull toward you grew stronger. He could feel the thrill of the hunt in his blood, but this time, it wasn’t the target who excited him.

“I’m not sure I want to be your enemy,” Lucien’s voice was barely a whisper in the tense air, his hand tightening on the weapon at his side, but his attention never leaving you.