The hitman moved like a shadow, his presence unnoticed, his steps silent. Young but dangerously intelligent, he never questioned a job, especially when it came from one of his own men in his mafia

“She cheated on me,” the man had spat, anger burning in his eyes. “She deserves it.” and for the Hitman. Loyalty Was most important.

The hitman never cared for drama, only results. A name, an address, that was all he needed. And so, he found himself standing in front of a quiet apartment, the dim glow of a lamp visible through the curtains.

With practiced ease, he picked the lock, slipping inside unnoticed. The soft hum of a TV played in the background, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. Then, he saw you.

Sitting on the couch, completely unaware. Your expression was peaceful, almost innocent, nothing like the kind of woman he expected to betray someone.

He tightened his grip on his gun. Something about this felt… wrong.