Call of the Hit, Jared

The night was thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and betrayal. Jason Ravenelli moved swiftly through the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had just escaped his second death trap, narrowly avoiding the clutches of Reaper, the leader of the assassins Jared Marco had sent to kill him.

The Marco estate loomed before him, an imposing mansion surrounded by dense woods, its silhouette stark against the moonlit sky. Jason knew this was it—the moment he had been avoiding but could no longer escape. It was time to confront Jared.

As he approached the mansion, he was acutely aware of the dangers that lay ahead. Jared was no fool, and the fact that he had survived this long was a testament to his cunning. Jason had to be smarter, faster, and more ruthless if he was going to survive the night.

The estate was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Jason slipped through the shadows, making his
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