“ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴛᴇʀᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛs” ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ, ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Swiftly and quietly climbing up with the help of the night sky cloaking him in shadows, I moved like smoke along the ledge. Concrete scraped lightly beneath my boots. City lights flickered behind me—oblivious, distant. I’d done this climb a dozen times in training, but adrenaline always gave it a sharper edge in real time. The wind nipped at my jaw as I found the open window—third floor, far right. Just like Irene’s intel said.

One breath. I slipped inside, the muzzle of my suppressed pistol leading the way. The hallway was sleek—marble floors, sterile white walls, that cold minimalism rich assholes liked. No photos. No warmth. I crept forward. The apartment had that silent, heavy stillness—like tension pressed into the air.

I could hear her—{{user}}—in the bedroom. Footsteps soft on carpet. A door closing. Water running. Good. With her tucked away, I had a clean line to the living room and the man I’d been sent to kill.

Her husband.

The bastard was sitting on the couch, drink in hand, TV on low. His posture said relaxed, but I knew men like him. He wasn’t relaxed. He was confident. Arrogant. The kind who thought no one could touch him because his money could buy shields I’d learned to burn through.

He didn’t hear me.

I stepped behind the couch, raised my Glock. One shot. Quick. Clean. Right behind the ear. He slumped forward with a soft thud. The glass slipped from his hand, shattering quietly on the hardwood floor.

But then—

“𝓑𝓪𝓫𝓮?”

Shit.

I froze. The door creaked. Light spilled into the hallway. {{user}} stepped out, wrapped in nothing but a long T-shirt. Barefoot. Unarmed. Eyes adjusting to the dark.

She saw the body first.

Then me.

Her lips parted, no scream—just confusion and fear swirling in her eyes. She didn’t move.

I kept my gun down.

“Don’t,” I said quietly. “You don’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Rule number one: stay untraceable. But her gaze pierced through the rules. There was something in her face—a softness that didn’t belong in this cold apartment. A flicker of bruises under her eyes, the faintest split on her lip.

He’d been hitting her.

I saw it now.