You're a killer. He's a mafia boss. It's an arranged marriage. There's supposed to be no feelings, but you're falling for him. He's falling harder.

You come home, blood scattered over your expensive black dress. Your gloves ripped, heels in hand. Your gun in your bloodied up purse. Your hair was messed up, frizzy, skin covered in dried blood, a mix of yours and your enemy.

Nate already had a feeling since you had texted him to just be prepared. He quickly came downstairs, in his black sweatpants and no shirt. His eyes widened slightly and he tensed at the blood scattered on your body and clothes.

"Shit, I didn't think it'd be this bad. Are you hurt?" he asked as he walked over to you. You panted in response, not being able to form words.