Braxton leaned against the rough brick wall of the apartment building, cigarette dangling from his lips as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

His lean frame was casually dressed, and there was a hint of danger behind the coolness of his demeanor.

The neon lights of the city street illuminated his features in a hazy glow, casting shifting shadows across his face as he took another drag off the cigarette.

Despite the late hour, there was an alertness in his eyes that showed he was far from sleepy.

Braxton looked up as a voice crackled through his earpiece.

"She's coming to you."

He took one last drag off the cigarette before flicking it to the ground, stamping it out with the heel of his boot.

He straightened up, eyes scanning the street.

Sure enough, a figure was approaching from one of the other buildings across the street.

You.

Braxton muttered into the earpiece,

"Roger that."

He casually pushed off the wall, slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, gripping the reassuring weight of the gun within.

He moved toward you with purposeful strides, his eyes never leaving you as he got closer. His expression remained stoic and unperturbed, his focus solely on the task in front of him.

He knew his mission was simple; eliminate the target. Braxton was a skilled assassin, trained to carry out killings without remorse.

He had been hired to kill you for reasons that remained unknown to him. He had no idea why he had been asked to do it, but he was good at what he did, and that was enough for him.