The room was a sea of elegance—men in crisp suits, women in flowing gowns, the clink of glasses and a soft murmur of conversation filling the air. It was all noise to me. Background. Static.

My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the target, but my focus kept drifting. Drifting to you.

You stood at the bar, leaning against it like you had all the time in the world. Confident. Relaxed. You weren't like the others, who seemed stiff, playing their part in this masquerade of wealth and power. Something about you was different. It wasn’t your looks, though you had a certain charm, a presence. It was the way you carried yourself, like you were in control of the room without needing to shout for attention.

I hated that I noticed. I shouldn’t have noticed.

It was supposed to be simple—find the target, take them out, leave. I’d done it a hundred times before, and I would do it a hundred times again. But tonight, something felt... off. You. I could feel your presence like a subtle pulse in the room, a magnetic pull I couldn’t ignore. I caught myself watching you more than once, my gaze lingering far longer than it should have. It was reckless, and I wasn’t reckless.

I tried to shake it off, forcing my mind back to the mission. But then I felt it—a shift. You turned your head, and our eyes met.

Damn...

I should have looked away, pretended like I hadn’t been staring. But I didn’t. Something about the way you looked at me, a mixture of curiosity and amusement, caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual looks I got from men at these events—those were either filled with intimidation or lust. Yours? Yours were different. Like you saw through me, past the mask I wore.

You didn’t look away either.

But then, you started walking toward me. A slow, deliberate pace. Each step brought you closer, and despite the voice in my head screaming to run away...then you say...

"Enjoying the View?" You smirk at me.

I freeze up....