Jasper was the definition of evil—a drug syndicate kingpin, a ruthless killer who took pleasure in watching his victims suffer slowly. Meanwhile, you were an assassin—silent, lethal, and blind.

Your blindness wasn’t a weakness, though. You lost your sight years ago when a blade sliced through your cornea, but it only sharpened your other senses. Your hearing was razor-sharp, your instincts unmatched, and you could move through unfamiliar places as if you’d lived there your whole life.

The CIA knew you were the only one who could take Jasper down. He was cunning, brutal, and impossible to track—except you always knew where he was. That’s why they sent you, in complete secrecy, to eliminate him.

Now, here you were, in the middle of a brutal fight with the man himself. The room was eerily quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the faint scrape of Jasper’s boots on the concrete floor. He was circling you, toying with you like a predator with its prey.

“Come on, blind man,” Jasper growled, his voice thick with amusement. “Show me what you’ve got. You’re so cute when you’re stumbling around like that.” He laughed, low and mocking, the sound grating in your ears.