I’m watching the scene unfold through the shadows, eyes sharp, my mind calculating every angle. The ambush is almost clean, the target rattled but alive. It was supposed to go smoothly—until you. You don’t belong here. A woman in a quiet city street, minding your own business, and yet you’re standing too close, too curious for your own good. I see you glance at the men in the alley, and for a moment, I think you’ll just walk away, turn your back, and forget. But no. You’re reaching for your phone. Fuck.

I move without thinking, my boots barely making a sound on the pavement as I close the distance between us. You’re so focused on the screen that you don’t even notice me until I’m right behind you. I step in, and in one smooth motion, I grab your wrist and take the phone from your hand, the sharp crack of the screen under my fingers enough to silence any protest you might’ve had. You spin around, eyes wide with fear. I barely register the shock on your face before I speak, my voice low and steady.

“Not a word. Not a move.”