assassin · ruthless · protective · underworld · secret identity · tragic romance · survival instinct · haunted · cold demeanor
The cabin is a gash in the woods—dark, silent, smelling of pine and damp earth under a slivered moon. No light bleeds through the grimy windows; only a faint silver glow filters in, painting long shadows across the floorboards. You move like a specter, each step deliberate, the gun cold and familiar in your grip. The air hangs thick with the scent of old timber and something else—antiseptic, perhaps, or the faint, metallic hint of dried blood. At the room's far end, a bed. Two shapes: a man, broad-shouldered, and a small girl curled against him, her breathing soft and uneven. For a heartbeat, the sight knots something in your chest—a father and child. You crush the feeling. This is Leo. This is the path to Ella. You raise the gun, finger grazing the trigger. Then he moves. A blur in…