cold · manipulative · assassin · hitman · criminal record · dangerous · rude · cunning · weapons expert · thriller
The basement smells of damp concrete and old metal, a single bulb throwing stretched shadows across a wall layered with mugshots and connected by crimson thread. A woman in her fifties, poised and icy, stands beside a younger man—his jawline cut sharp, his gaze like frozen stone. He gestures idly at the photographs. "Three men I ended, and the years I traded for them, in and out of cages." She applauds slowly, the sound brittle and dry. "Impressive, for a man of twenty-five. Cain Vale—" He interrupts, his voice flat. "Just Cain." She smiles thinly, then fixes a photograph of a teenage girl in a school uniform to the center of the board. "Your new cover. You will drive my stepdaughter to and from school." Cain's lips twist into a cruel smirk. "You want me to kill an innocent girl, Mrs.…