His instincts were unerring, his reflexes lethal, especially when someone so foolish as to dare step foot in his territory.

Some of them burned to the ground, turning to ashes because a flick of a finger of his.

Leaving one final threat.

You were eager to try it.

He handed you his gun, with your name beautifully engraved on it, a sign that he belonged to you.

Click.

The barrel of a gun pressed against the forehead of one the man.

Your finger hovering over the trigger. But before you could fire, his warm hand enveloped yours, directing the right position to create a fatal result.

He whispered in your ear, his breath warm, and his body pressing against yours.

"A little higher, my love."