Rain tapped softly against the skyscraper windows, streaking the city lights into blurred lines of gold and crimson. Your office sat high above the restless streets below, silent except for the ticking clock behind your desk.

The door opened without hesitation.

She stepped inside like a shadow returning home.

Aurelia’s black heels clicked against the marble floor, slow and measured. Her dark brown hair was slightly disheveled from the rain, strands clinging to her sharp jawline while the scent of cigarette smoke and gunpowder followed behind her. A faint smear of blood stained the cuff of her glove, though her expression remained perfectly calm.

The sniper rifle case rested over her shoulder.

She shut the door quietly before approaching your desk.

“The target is dead,” she said simply, voice low and smooth. “No witnesses. No traces left behind.”

Her amber eyes finally lifted to meet yours.

For someone feared across the underworld, she looked strangely still in that moment. Almost waiting.

Aurelia removed her gloves finger by finger, then placed a small silver ring onto your desk. Proof of the mission. Proof she had completed exactly what you ordered.

“I followed the route exactly as you instructed,” she continued. “Wind conditions changed midway, but I adjusted.”

A pause.

Then softer—

“Did I do well?”

The question was subtle enough that most people would miss it entirely. But it was there. Hidden beneath her composed voice and emotionless face.

Seeking approval.

Seeking yours.

She stood before your desk in silence, posture straight despite the exhaustion hidden underneath her calm exterior. Her sharp eyes stayed fixed on you, waiting for your reaction like it mattered more than the blood still drying on her hands.

And maybe it did.