Hitman by Sophie Slade


As I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, I knew he was the one who had been sent. The one who had come for me.

In his eyes, I saw the depth of his soul and knew there was more to him than what met the eye.

Outwardly, he was well dressed, cordial, mannerly… a gentleman.

Clearly, he had either been raised with etiquette or had acquired it along the way.

Although self-assured, he doubted himself at this moment… I saw it in his eyes. It was there.

As they say, the eyes are the windows to the soul, and his soul was dark, but there was also light.

Doubt was also there… dangerous in his profession.

He had watched me throughout the party. I felt his eyes on me all night. He had never been far.

At first, I thought him to be a diplomat, a government official, or the head of a new Mafia faction. So, I waited, biding my time.

Truth be told, he could have taken me then, in plain sight, at the time of his choosing.

Instead, he came to me, alone in my bed, nude and defenseless.

Although I had never seen him before this day, I knew him well.

He was death personified, come to claim me.

For he was my hitman, and I was his mark.

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