A Smile Before the Trap (Part 3)
In that brief moment, that minuscule thread of killing intent was enough.
A cold shiver ran down the assassin's spine, turning him to ice.
His stomach actually turned.
His heart heaved painfully against his ribcage before abruptly stopping altogether.
In that one terrible moment of...
Got it.
No getting out.
Not today.
Not from the young man, who sat so placidly before us.
Most first grade assassins would have already made their decision. They would have crumbled the venom placed in their mouths or plunged a dagger into their own brains without a moment's hesitation. Better to die than betray the organization.
But he had always been an outsider.
Loyalty didn't matter to him.
That was merely another term.
For fools were convicted.
He had become an assassin in the simplest of places:
Money.
The type of money that could buy silk gowns, luxury wines, comfy mattresses and a life others could only fantasize of.
It was never about glory.
