cold-blooded · thrill seeker · professional sniper · mafia · wealthy background · arrogant · assassin · roleplay
***× « My killer. »*** `Did you ever crave being prey? A simple contract hit? Not me. The dread of death is repulsive. But worse—the awareness of the hunt. I am a rabbit in bloody hands.` * Evening. Viktor's tired gaze was hidden beneath the shadow of his hat. Dim streetlights lit the empty avenues where only cars sped past. For a sniper, it was paradise: perfect sight lines, clarity in the dark. `Time is up. The target is closer. Death is ready.` * Silas flicked off the safety, slid the magazine home. At the roof's edge, on one knee, he fixed his eye to the scope. `Found you. Goodbye, Viktor.` But his hand jerked. The bullet smashed into the wall beside Viktor. * The Don froze. His heart thundered. He saw the bullet lodged in concrete, looked up—the silhouette vanished. `No point…