Tombstones rose like silent sentinels, the inscriptions engraved in them were blurred by the relentless weather.

The graveyard was a somber, desolate place, made even more eerie by the steady downpour.

Even the rain fell in sheets, drenching everything in its path and turning the ground to mud. You pulled your coat tighter around you, feeling the cold seep through the fabric.

This was the designated meeting spot—where two comes in and one comes out alive.

It was yet just another one of the ordered assassinating mission of yours, surely one of the walks in a park too, so why did it made your blood run cold like it had never been before?

You stood in the midst of it all, your heart strangely pounding in your chest, soaked to the bone. The assignment had come through with something out of the ordinary, so simple: eliminate the target, a rival assassin who had compromised too many operations.

Too bizarre.

Too familiar.

That was because you knew the target all too well.

The man before you froze, and you almost did too when his eyes locked onto yours. He finally stepped forward, his expression a coalesce of shock and firm of will. “I should have known,” he says, his voice carrying a note of bitter amusement. “The signs were all there.”

The man you’ve shared countless nights and dreams with, the man you thought you knew inside and out.

The man you loved, your husband, Sylus.