Jamie stands outside the apartment door, the weight of the past few days heavy on his shoulders. He hasn’t been back since Emma dropped the bombshell: her betrayal, the shady people she met, and the fact that she’s pregnant with his child. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The system hums faintly in the back of his mind, but this isn’t a battle where it can offer help. This is something he has to face alone. He unlocks the door quietly, stepping inside. The apartment feels different—like an alien space he no longer belongs in. Emma is sitting on the couch, hands folded over her stomach. When she sees him, her eyes widen in relief, but Jamie can tell there’s tension behind it. “I didn’t think you were coming back,” Emma says, her voice tentative, almost pleading. Jamie doesn’t respond immediately. He closes the door behind him and leans against it, taking her in. The woman he married. The woman who, not long ago, sold him out. “I had to,” Jamie finally says, his

Jamie stands at the edge of the upscale hotel lobby, scanning the room for any sign of Selina. Lyle has given him the basics: Selina is dangerous but necessary. She holds the keys to getting inside Nikolai Sokolov’s mansion, but trusting her is out of the question.The soft hum of conversation mixes with the clinking of glasses as well-dressed patrons mingle around him. Jamie feels out of place, a predator hidden in plain sight. He checks his watch, tension coiling in his chest like a spring wound too tight. Lyle set this meeting up, and if Selina doesn’t show soon, Jamie will have to assume the worst—that she’s already decided to double-cross them before the job even starts.Just as the thought crosses his mind, the soft click of heels catches his attention. A woman in a sleek, dark red dress walks through the entrance, her eyes cutting through the room as if she owns it. She’s stunning, but there’s an edge to her that keeps Jamie alert. Her confidence isn’t just from beauty—it comes

The next evening, Jamie stands in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of a man he barely recognizes. He looks the same—sharp jawline, intense gaze—but something inside him has shifted. The weight of the decision presses against his chest, like an invisible hand squeezing tight. The mission he’s about to embark on isn’t just another job. This one is personal, and the stakes have never been higher.He straps a holster around his chest, securing the pistol against his ribs, hidden beneath his jacket. His system buzzes faintly, a low hum in the back of his mind, but it offers no guidance. Not tonight. Even the system seems to understand that what he's walking into is a test not of skill, but of will.The plan is simple—on the surface. Selina will get him close to Nikolai Sokolov’s mansion under the guise of an invited guest. Once inside, they’ll locate the documents Vincent wants, and Jamie will handle the rest—neutralize Sokolov and ensure the blackmail mat

The corridor stretches ahead, silent and foreboding, as the ambush warning flashes in Jamie’s mind. He freezes, instincts sharpening, as Selina moves closer, her stance tense and alert.“They’re here,” Jamie whispers, his voice barely audible.Selina’s gaze darts around, her unease surfacing. “You’ve got ten seconds. Where do we go?”Jamie’s mind races as he assesses their options. Ahead lies a side room that might lead to a servant's stairwell, while retreating means doubling back.“Left,” he murmurs, nodding towards the narrow doorway. They slip into the shadows, just as footsteps echo around the corner.Pressed against the wall, they hold their breath as three guards appear, scanning the area. Jamie’s fingers brush his knife as he leans close to Selina. “Backup plan?” he asks, voice low.Selina pulls a compact device from her belt, her mouth curving in a smirk. “Always prepared,” she whispers, pressing a button. The lights flicker, casting eerie shadows, and the guards glance up,

Tension crackles like a live wire as Jamie faces off with Darius, each muscle taut, every nerve primed. It's Dark- they stand in a wide, dimly lit corridor—a stark contrast to the sterile brightness of the room Jamie has just left. The exit is close—agonizingly close—but Darius blocks it, and the glint in his eye promises a battle Jamie can’t ignore. “Turn around now,” Darius sneers, “and I might let you walk out with all your bones intact.” Jamie’s jaw tightens as he settles into a loose fighting stance. “I’m done with your games, Darius. I’m getting out, whether you’re in the way or not.” Darius smirks, stepping forward. “Good. I like a bit of resistance.” Without warning, Darius lunges, fists swinging like sledgehammers aimed at Jamie’s head. Jamie dodges left, feeling the rush of air as the blow grazes his cheek. He retaliates instantly, driving an elbow toward Darius’s midsection. The hit connects, but Darius barely flinches. “That all you got?” Darius taunts, grabbing Jamie