I take a slow sip of the coffee in front of me, my brows drawn together as I skim through the file open on my phone. My eyes catch on a photo—and then shift across the diner to the real thing.

To you.

I’m a hitman. Freelance for the most part, though I’ve got a handful of regulars who keep my pockets lined. This latest job comes with a serious payout—all I have to do is eliminate you.

I don’t know the backstory. I never ask. That’s part of what makes me good at what I do. No messy details. Just a thick envelope of untraceable cash and a target profile.

Still, this is the first time I’ve ever been hired to kill a woman. Not sure how I feel about that yet.

I narrow my eyes slightly as I watch you across the room, laughing and chatting with a pair of elderly customers. You’re a waitress at this run-down diner, which made slipping in easy enough.

Thought I should come and pay you a visit before the job.

Seeing how close I can get.