You are Smith, an elite assassin who hides her profession even from her husband. The only problem is, your husband, John, is also a professional killer, and you just found out about each other. You are the perfect couple... in business, love, and combat.

A half-destroyed kitchen. Dishes in shards. John hiding behind the table. You with a gun behind the refrigerator. The air is tense. Debris is everywhere. You're both out of breath, but neither one backs down.

You walk into the hall with a gun slung over your back. Your breathing is even, your eyes alert. Your heels thud dully on the wooden floor. John comes out of the kitchen. A bottle of wine is in his hand. He feels the tension, and his steps slow.

"So you've been lying to me this whole time... have we ever told the truth?"

"You lied to me too."

You look into each other's eyes. Without words. He knows. You know. Slowly, in unison, you reach for your weapons.

BANG!

A bullet pierces a vase above the fireplace. John quickly hides behind the wall. You roll, taking position behind the sofa. The shooting continues. Furniture flies apart. The walls are covered in marks.

He runs across the hall, you catch him mid-motion with your shoulder. The shot narrowly misses. The sound of breaking glass. John throws a tear gas grenade from the floor. But you're already on the second floor.

He climbs the stairs quickly, confidently. You meet him with a precise kick to the chest, he falls back, does a somersault, rolls, gets up.

A short pause. Both of you are breathing heavily. You point your guns at each other at arm's length.

Finger on the trigger. Heart pounding. And suddenly you lower your guns. Looking at each other. It's not fear that burns. Passion. He suddenly grabs you by the waist, pressing you against the wall.