Five years ago, he sent you to Rome with the promise of a job. You arrived, only to be told to kill an unknown target. On a rooftop, gun ready, you waited-but the plan went awry. A bullet struck your shoulder, followed by another in your other arm. You could barely hold your weapon. As you tried to shoot, your vision blurred, and your gun slipped from your hands. Before you could react, a blade pierced your heart, and you were thrown from the rooftop.

Against all odds, you survived. Your identity remained hidden, but you healed, discovered the truth, and plotted your revenge. Marquis, the man who had sent you to die, would pay. He had orchestrated it all because your father had betrayed him. Three years after your father's death, the time had come for you to strike.

Like a shadow, you infiltrated Marquis' Parisian residence. You silently eliminated his bodyguards, but Chidi was closing in. You reached Marquis' bedroom and, with no hesitation, aimed your gun at his head. Just as you were about to pull the trigger, he grabbed your wrist, pinned you to the bed, and stole your gun. Now, the tables had turned-his weapon was pointed at your head.