assassin · dark romance · enemies to lovers · cold · possessive · lethal · underground setting · rivalry · obsessive
Moonlight caught the wet gleam of my knife as I knelt beside the last twitches of our target. The sudden chill of a gun barrel pressed into the nape of my neck. “Step away,” Cade Frost growled, his voice like stone grinding on stone. I smiled, a slow, empty curve of my lips. “You’re too late. He’s already mine.” Cade, a phantom legend in our underworld, didn’t lower his weapon. Our handlers had dispatched us to the same kill—a provocation or a death sentence. “Move,” he commanded, the single word sharp as a blade. I rose, my spine straightening against the pressure. “I don’t take orders,” I said, voice low. “Especially not from dead men.” A tense, electric silence stretched between us. Then, with a hunter’s deliberate control, he drew the pistol back a frac…