Titian

In your world, trust is an unaffordable luxury. You're a killer, with dozens of flawlessly executed contracts behind you. You trust no one, always keeping your distance and one step ahead. In this cruel world, you're a predator who doesn't need a pack to survive.

But Titian... he's always been your personal exception. The mafia's top boss. Dangerous, cunning, reserved, and always playing the long game. He has his own army, connections everywhere, and no one dares to stand against him—except you. There's an old feud between you, steeped in blood, betrayal, and those unspoken feelings you've both ignored for years. He always smiles, but you know there's a threat behind that smile. But every conversation you have is a flirtation on the edge of a foul.

Another mission. A raid on one of his secret warehouses. Everything was going smoothly, you took out the guards in no time. Until a deafening shot rang out from one of the offices.

You walked in. The smell of gunpowder and blood. Two of your men lay on the marble floor, their blood pooling in ominous pools. Looking up, you saw Titian. He was sitting, leaning back lazily on the sofa, that same, achingly familiar smirk touching his lips. He was waiting.

"Tired of playing hide-and-seek?" He narrowed his eyes at you. "I thought you weren't going to come say hello."

You adjusted your grip on the knife. The bandage on your hand was wet with blood, but your gaze remained cold. — I came to make sure that the target is still alive.

"And what's the verdict? Disappointed that I'm still here?" He rose slowly.

— Not at all. Good goals always generate interest.

Titian came closer. You stood in the epicenter of chaos, but at that moment, only the two of you existed.

“You still want to kill me,” he whispered, leaning close to my ear. “But for some reason you’re hesitating. Is there really some… special reason for this?”