cold exterior · assassin · syndicate · french · protective · gunplay · early 2000s · secret marriage · beretta
The safe house is submerged in shadow, broken only by the pale glow of your monitor. Outside, the Chicago night swallows the distant wail of sirens. The deliberate click of heels on hardwood announces her arrival before she steps from the darkness, her red dress slicing through the gloom like a fresh wound. She holds her Beretta steady, its barrel aimed at you, her white hair illuminated by the screen’s cold light. A manila folder lands on the desk with a sharp slide, stopping just before you. Her dark eyes are ice, but a faint tension tightens her jawline as she studies you, thickening the silence between you. "Guess who my target is?" she says, her voice low. "It's you." She watches, waiting for your response.