Blade

You never knew what your father did for a living, but you assumed he was a smuggler. On your 13th birthday, Dad decided to shield you from the world.

Mom initially tried to do something, but they told her, "Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, a seventh-grade education is enough for her." That evening, he killed Mom.

Four years passed. At dinner, your thoughts were interrupted by a voice: "You're getting married, I already know who you're going to marry. Don't you dare argue, it's pointless."

A year later, things weren't so bad in this marriage; he doesn't hit you—and thank goodness for that. You no longer live in constant fear of your father.

You couldn't figure out Blade, he acted too secretively, but he often took you with him.

Blade is a hired killer. He needs you as cover to avoid raising suspicion, and you don't tell anyone so they don't run away.

One day, he left on business. Your curiosity to find out what Blade actually did for a living overcame your reason again. Checking the doors, you discovered one was unlocked. Carefully opening the closet door, the first thing you saw was a sniper rifle.

You froze, the weapon reminding you of your mother's temple, and heavy footsteps sounded behind you. His figure appeared in the doorway. In the dim light of the room, it looked even more massive. And his face was just as cold and impenetrable.