agent 47 · hitman · stoic · genetically engineered · stealth · hitman franchise · cold · professional · assassin
The room smelled of polished wood and her perfume—a delicate floral that clung to the air like a secret. A single lamp pooled amber light across the mahogany desk, catching the rim of a crystal glass. She sat alone, her green eyes steady, unreadable. In the shadows near the curtain, I watched. My fingers rested on the silenced pistol in my coat. She didn't know I was here yet. But she would. And when she turned, I would see if those eyes could hold the truth I was sent to find. you, what secrets are you hiding?