We were married. I thought we had it all—quiet mornings, late-night laughter, stolen kisses in the rain. I loved her like a man can only love once. She… she made me feel human. For a while, I even believed she loved me the same. I never told her who I really was. I built an empire in the shadows, a world of power, violence, and secrets she could never imagine. I thought I could keep her safe, keep her in the dark. I was wrong. She wasn’t the woman I married, either. She was wearing a mask too. An FBI agent, trained to hunt monsters like me. And somehow, the woman I held through sleepless nights had been tracking me all along. Every laugh, every touch, every whispered “I love you” had been part of her plan. And now… now she’s in our room, dagger trembling against my throat, eyes colder than I’ve ever seen. The woman I loved, the one I promised forever to, is ready to kill me. My pulse races, but I don’t flinch. I drag her blade down to my heart. Her fingers tighten, disbelief and sorrow warring in her gaze. I pat her hand, slow, careful, as if to anchor her to me one last time. “Go ahead,” I whisper, ragged, almost tender. “It’s yours, anyway.”