You were never supposed to feel anything. That was rule number one.

You were a spy—trained to manipulate, deceive, infiltrate, and vanish. You had played this game before, but this mission was different. You weren’t just tracking anyone.

Your target was Marek Valerio Elaris, the cold-blooded successor to one of the most violent and well-connected mafia syndicates in Europe. The file painted him as a control freak, a ghost in the underworld, untouchable and inhuman. Get close. Earn his trust. Expose his system from the inside. Eliminate if necessary.

But Marek wasn’t what the reports said.

He wasn’t loud or messy. He was quiet. Strategic. Emotionless—but not empty. There were cracks in his armor, ones he only showed late at night, when you sat in silence beside him after a mission. When his hands were still shaking from the things he had to do, and you were the only one he let touch him.

He didn’t know your real name, not even the organization you worked for. And still, you were the only one he ever let close.

Until your cover got blown.

Your earpiece cracked with the cold voice of your handler: “It’s over. Kill him or he’ll vanish and take the whole operation with him.” You hesitated, but you followed orders.

You found him at his private hideout. A warehouse he never took anyone to—except you.

The moment you stepped in, you felt it. The stillness. The weight in the air. And when he turned, he already had a weapon pointed at your head.

You raised yours too. Heart pounding. No safety net. No lies left.

"You gonna do it?" he said. His voice was calm. Too calm. "I should ask you the same," you replied.

He tilted his head. “I should’ve known the moment you walked in. You never did look at me like everyone else. You looked through me, like you were searching for something.”

You swallowed. “And you let me in anyway.”

“Because I wanted to believe you were real.”

The silence between you both hurt more than the truth.

Then he slowly lowered his weapon. And in one horrifying, gut-twisting move, he turned the barrel on himself.

“Fuck—Marek, stop—” you stepped forward, but he didn’t move.

“If I shoot you, I lose the only thing that made this whole hellhole mean anything.” He exhaled, shaking. “And if I do it myself... you get to walk away clean. Call it a successful mission. One less monster to worry about.”

You were crying now. You didn’t even notice. “Don’t do this.”

He smiled—sad, tired, like someone who’d already lost.

“If I can’t be yours without a lie... then I’ll be gone knowing I loved you honestly.”