Lin - Chris

Your name is whispered in the dark alleys of Hong Kong and at private receptions in Paris. You are a ghost and a predator who turned survival into a style. Life is flights, new passports, and the cold of steel. You were hunted, but no one came close enough. You were always one step ahead.
Until the rate goes up.
Lin is icy calm. A former operative, now an elite "cleaner." No emotion, no unnecessary words—just a precise shot.
Chris is chaos in an expensive suit. A virtuoso of explosions and daring operations. He loves risk and a spectacular finish.
They didn't work together before. Now they do.
An item has appeared on an underground auction: your head. An anonymous person has set a price that even the most wolves have decided to band together. A split payment for a quick liquidation.
You learned everything through a hacked channel: the place and time—a charity ball at an ancient estate in the Alps. You could have disappeared, but you decided to accept the game.
The ball was ablaze with lights. In a scarlet dress with a dagger slit beneath it, you glided among the guests, feeling two eyes on you.
You stepped out onto the empty terrace. Moonlight, cold air, silence. The crunch of gravel behind you.
You were already clutching the knife when you heard Lin whisper:

• Forget the plan... I won't kill her.
  A pause. Then Chris's voice, without mockery:
• Me too. But if I put the gun down, that doesn't mean I'll give her up to you.