The sound of rain filled the silence between them. It came softly at first, a slow drizzle tapping on the windowpane of Adrian's villa, but to Elena, it felt like thunder. Every drop reminded her of the time slipping away, of the invisible clock counting down to the day she would have to make a choice — her target or her heart.
Adrian sat across from her at the dining table, his eyes calm but curious, his fork untouched.
"You've barely eaten," he said quietly.
"I'm not hungry," she replied, stabbing a piece of roasted chicken just to look occupied.
He leaned back in his chair, the dim lights catching the sharp line of his jaw. "You've been… different lately. Distant."
"I'm just tired," she said quickly. Too quickly.
He tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Tired? Or hiding something?"
Her grip on the fork tightened. He was teasing, but she could hear the edge in his tone. The way he said hiding something wasn't casual. It was a test.
Elena forced a small laugh. "You think I'm hiding something from you?"
"I don't know," he said, standing up and walking around the table until he was behind her. "But people who come into my life usually want something."
Her heartbeat spiked. He was too close now. She could feel the warmth of his breath near her ear.
"Do you?" he asked softly. "Want something from me, Elena?"
Her throat went dry. The words she wanted to say tangled inside her. Yes. Your life.
Instead, she whispered, "I don't know what I want anymore."
He chuckled lowly, brushing past her shoulder. "Honest. I like that."
---
That night, Elena couldn't sleep. She paced around the guest room, staring at the storm outside. Every strike of lightning lit up her reflection in the mirror — the reflection of a liar, a killer who had gone soft.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser.
It was a message from Orion, her handler.
> "Three days left. No excuses."
Elena typed a reply, then deleted it. What excuse could she give? That she'd fallen in love with the man she was meant to kill?
She turned off the phone, threw it into her bag, and sat on the bed with her face buried in her hands. For the first time in her life, she wished she had never taken a mission.
---
The next morning, Adrian was already outside when she came downstairs. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still wet. He was working on a motorcycle parked near the garage, grease smudging his hands.
"Didn't peg you for a mechanic," Elena said, approaching.
He smiled faintly. "Didn't peg you for someone who wakes up before noon."
She rolled her eyes, crouching beside him. "I couldn't sleep."
"Then we have that in common," he said, tightening a bolt. "Bad dreams?"
She looked at him carefully. "Do you have those?"
"Sometimes," he said, voice low. "They usually involve people I trusted."
The air grew thick between them again. She could almost hear her heartbeat echoing in her chest. Adrian looked up, his eyes locking onto hers. For a brief second, the world seemed too quiet. Too still.
Then he smiled — that same smile that had disarmed her the first time they met — and handed her a rag. "You can help if you're bored."
Elena hesitated, then took it. For the next hour, they worked side by side in silence. Her hands trembled slightly every time their fingers brushed. She tried not to think about the gun hidden in her drawer upstairs.
---
Later that day, while Adrian went out to take a call, Elena wandered through his study. She shouldn't have. But curiosity was stronger than guilt.
The room was clean, almost too clean. The walls were lined with books, most of them about business, politics, and a few on military strategy. On his desk lay a single photograph — a much younger Adrian, standing beside an older man in a suit.
She leaned closer. The man's face looked familiar.
Then she froze.
She had seen him before — Lord Vincent Vale, founder of the Vale Syndicate, one of the largest underground organizations in Europe. A man known for laundering billions through legitimate fronts. And Adrian… was his son.
Her blood went cold. So he wasn't just a random target. He was the heir of one of the most powerful crime empires on the continent.
Before she could move, a voice came from behind her.
"Find what you're looking for?"
Elena spun around. Adrian stood at the doorway, expression unreadable. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.
"I was just—"
"Curious?" he finished for her. He stepped closer. "Most people are, until curiosity gets them hurt."
Her heart pounded. The tension between them wasn't just romantic anymore — it was dangerous. He wasn't as naive as she'd thought.
Adrian stopped a few feet away, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're not like other women I've met, Elena. You don't flinch when I talk about violence. You don't ask questions normal people would. You know how to handle a gun — I saw the way you held it the night those thieves attacked us."
Elena's pulse quickened. He noticed.
"I grew up rough," she lied, forcing a laugh. "You learn to survive."
He stared at her a moment longer, then sighed. "Maybe. Or maybe you're something else entirely."
---
That night, Elena locked herself in her room and sent a single message to Orion.
> "Target might not be who we think. Need time."
The reply came instantly.
> "You're compromised. Finish it or we finish you."
She dropped the phone, her breath shallow. There was no turning back now. Either Adrian died… or she did.
---
The next morning, Adrian acted normal — too normal. He cooked breakfast, cracked jokes, and asked about her favorite childhood memory. Elena played along, pretending nothing had changed. But inside, she was breaking.
When she finally excused herself, Adrian's gaze followed her.
He knew.
And she knew he knew.
As she walked down the hallway, she felt his eyes burning into her back — not in suspicion, but in sorrow. It was the look of a man who'd already figured out the truth but couldn't bring himself to act on it.
Later that evening, when she went to the balcony, Adrian joined her.
"Beautiful night," he said softly.
"Yeah," she whispered. "Almost makes you forget everything else."
He leaned on the railing beside her. "You ever wonder if we're both pretending? You hiding something from me, me hiding something from you?"
She froze. Her hand brushed against the gun holstered under her jacket.
"Maybe," she said carefully.
Adrian smiled faintly. "Then I guess we deserve each other."
Their eyes met. For a second, the world felt fragile — like glass about to crack.
He reached for her hand. She didn't pull away.
When he kissed her, she didn't think about the mission, or the cult, or Orion.
She thought about how much she hated herself for loving a man she was supposed to kill.
---
That night, while Adrian slept beside her, Elena lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Her heart said stay. Her orders said kill.
And somewhere in the shadows outside the villa, someone was watching — a man in a black coat, speaking into a phone.
> "She's falling for him," the voice whispered.
"Good," the reply came coldly. "That makes it easier to destroy them both."