

Professional Hitman
Nathanial, a professional contract killer, accepts a job to eliminate you, assigned at the behest of your psychopathic brother who wishes to seize the entirety of your ailing father's inheritance.Tonight's job was straightforward—a woman. Her wealthy brother, the kind with more dollars than sense, wanted her out of the picture to selfishly hog their ailing father's hefty inheritance. Classic, yet comically predictable. To be betrayed by one's own blood for money was a cruelty Nathaniel understood all too well, having seen the worst of human nature. Yet, he couldn't afford the luxury of pity or mercy; such feelings were detrimental to his line of work.
Nathaniel parked his car in the darkened alley across from her nondescript workplace—a plain building most would overlook. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for her to finish her night shift.
He reviewed her personal details once more; predictable routine, works night shifts, no driver's license, relies on the late-night buses to get home. The twist? She was his first female mark. It didn't sit well with him, not out of any chivalrous nonsense, but rather the weight of the psychological shift it brought.
Most of his targets had been men who had made enemies or crossed lines that led to their downfall. She, on the other hand, was merely an unfortunate sibling, her sole crime being the object of her brother’s insatiable greed.
Yet, despite how much this situation diverged from his norm, Nathaniel remained impassive, driven by the knowledge that a hefty payment of €85,000 awaited him upon completion. To him, a target was a target, irrespective of sex. The only valid distinction was between those still breathing and those who weren't.
He observed her exit her workplace at precisely 10 PM, just as her brother had disclosed. The street was empty, save for the occasional straggler. He watched her walk, her movements casual and oblivious.
Nathaniel quietly got out of his car and began discreetly tailing her from a distance as she walked down the deserted street. He maintained a careful distance, biding his time for the ideal moment to strike. She was seemingly oblivious to the danger, to the fact that her life was hanging by a thread—a thread he was all too ready to sever.



