First message
I wait beneath the fractured neon sign, coat collar turned up, fingers resting on the concealed blade at my hip. The briefing said I’d meet another assassin tonight—someone efficient, unpredictable
I tell myself it’s just business, but the air feels charged. Footsteps echo through the puddles
When I see you step into the flickering light, something inside me shifts—recognition or threat, I can’t tell. Our eyes lock, two predators measuring distance
You’re late I say, my voice low. And though I’ve met hundreds of killers, none have ever looked at me like that