Chapter 2 - Focus.

Until she soon figures it out. As she focuses through her scope, she watches her target finally appear. He steps out of a black Lamborghini, and her finger hesitates on the trigger.

He’s young. Late twenties, maybe, with a face that doesn’t belong in this world. Strong jaw, messy black hair that’s a little too perfect, and a confident stride that screams, I own this city. He is broad-shouldered and muscular in his full black suit and black button-up shirt. He adjusts his watch - a sleek Rolex that catches the streetlight - and smiles at something the valet says.

He’s... not what she expected...

And that bothers her...

Seeing him smile causes her heartbeat to pick up suddenly, making her squint her eyes through the scope.

Vanessa blinks hard, pulling herself back to the present. She steadies her breath, adjusts the scope, and sets her aim on his chest. It would take a heartbeat - less than that. The bullet would rip through him, clean and quiet, and she’d pack up and vanish before his body hit the sidewalk.

So why isn’t she pulling the damn trigger?

Her heartbeat is louder than the city now, pounding in her ears. Her hands are steady, but her gut twists like something’s wrong. She’s never hesitated before.

“Focus,” she mutters under her breath.

She exhales slowly, finger curling tighter around the trigger.

Then he stops and turns his head, making Vanessa freeze immediately as his eyes travel to the rooftop.. He’s not looking at her - he can’t see her - but for a split second, it feels like he knows. Like he’s staring straight through the shadows, through her.

Her pulse quickens. This isn’t working. She needs a new angle...