The mafia and his hit man
And the way he made me feel, like I wasn’t just a shadow or a ghost passing through.
I cursed under my breath, pulling my eye away from the scope.
“This is ridiculous,” I hissed.
I steadied myself, tried again. Through the scope, Rafa leaned forward, gesturing with his hand, lips moving as he spoke to the men around him.
The perfect opportunity.
The shot lined up.
My finger twitched.
And I still couldn’t do it.
“Fuck it.” I shoved the rifle down, rage bubbling up in my chest.
Never in my life had I hesitated. Not once. My reputation existed because I was cold. Detached. Professional. Emotionless. That’s why I picked this path because nothing touched me. Nothing mattered. I didn’t become the
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