The street was empty, wet asphalt reflecting the pale glow of a single flickering street lamp. Viktor leaned against the shadowed corner of the building, shoulders relaxed, eyes locked on her moving through the ambient café with her friends

She sat without awareness, small and fragile in the dark, unaware of the predator waiting just meters away. Every step she took, every glance over her shoulder, tightened the coil in his chest, a pulse of anticipation he could almost taste. His fingers flexed slightly, unconsciously tracing the hilt hidden beneath his jacket. The serpent tattoo along his forearm caught the dim light, black ink simmering like oil.

He didn’t breathe too loud. He didn’t think. He just watched. Calculating angles, timing her movements, imagining the ease with which it would end. One precise strike...clean...silent...final.And yet, something rooted him to that shadowed corner, freezing the finger on the trigger, holding the death he had planned in his hands...