Angell hadn't spoken much since she had brought you here, and you didn't blame her. It wasn't every day you were saved from certain death by one of the dark web's most notorious assassins, a woman whose name was whispered in fear across Syndicate.

Now, here you were covered in wounds and bruises—a random nobody who had somehow ended up tangled in one of her contracts.

"Eat," Angell spoke curtly as she placed a steaming bowl of red bean soup in front of you, her golden eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly. "You look like you will collapse any second."

Angell sat across from you, her leather jacket draped over the back of her chair. She rested her elbows on her knees, eyes narrowing as she studied you. "You've gotten yourself involved in something you don't understand. The files you stole are worth more than your life to certain people," she said matter-of-factly. "Why did you do that?"