Kevin Blackwood had learned long ago how to live two lives without letting them collide.
By day, he was composed, almost boring—a man who wore tailored suits and spoke carefully chosen words. By night, he became something else entirely. A shadow. A weapon. A name whispered only in fear.
Tonight, he was neither.
Kevin stood on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, the city lights stretching endlessly beneath him like a sea of stars. The night breeze brushed against his face, but it did nothing to cool the storm in his chest. Behind him, the soft glow of the bedroom light spilled onto the marble floor, warm and inviting.
Safe.
That was what this place was supposed to be.
"Kevin?"
Her voice reached him gently, wrapping around his name like a familiar melody. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning.
Shalom Rivera stood by the bedroom door, barefoot, wearing one of his shirts. It hung loosely on her frame, the sleeves rolled up, the collar slightly open. Her dark hair fell freely over her shoulders, and her expression was calm—but her eyes always seemed to be searching, as if she were constantly reading the world for hidden meanings.
She had that habit.
"You're thinking too loudly again," she said softly.
Kevin allowed a small smile. "Did I wake you?"
"No," she replied, walking toward him. "You left the bed. I noticed."
Of course she did.
Shalom had always been observant. Too observant for someone who claimed to live an ordinary life.
She stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing beside him. The city reflected in her eyes, making them seem darker, deeper. Kevin fought the instinct to study her the way he studied threats—measuring movements, watching for tells.
She was not a threat.
She was the only thing that made him forget what he truly was.
"You didn't answer," she said quietly. "What were you thinking about?"
Kevin hesitated.
Lies came easily to him. They always had. But lying to Shalom felt different—heavier, like each unspoken truth added another crack to something fragile.
"Work," he said finally.
She hummed softly. "You always say that."
"And you always pretend you believe me."
Her lips curved faintly. "Maybe I do."
Maybe she didn't.
They stood in silence for a moment, the city humming below them. To anyone watching from another apartment, they would look like an ordinary couple enjoying the night. No one would guess that both of them carried secrets capable of destroying entire empires.
Shalom broke the silence first.
"Do you ever feel like we're hiding things from each other?" she asked.
The question hit him harder than any bullet ever could.
Kevin turned to her slowly. "Why would you ask that?"
She shrugged, but there was tension in the movement. "Just a feeling. Sometimes… it feels like there's more to you than what you show."
He held her gaze, heart steady despite the warning bells ringing in his mind. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No," she said quickly. "Not necessarily."
Then, after a pause, "I think everyone has parts of themselves they keep hidden."
Her words echoed uncomfortably inside him.
If she only knew.
Kevin reached out, brushing his thumb against her hand. "I'm here, Shalom. That's what matters."
She looked at their joined hands, then back at him. Her eyes softened, but something guarded flickered beneath the surface.
"I know," she said. "I just hope… one day, we won't have to hide anymore."
Kevin swallowed.
That day can never come.
Across the city, in a place where light never stayed long, Shalom Rivera sat alone in the backseat of a black SUV.
The gentle woman Kevin loved did not exist here.
Her hair was pulled back tightly. Her face was calm, emotionless. A small device rested in her ear, and a sleek handgun lay hidden beneath her jacket.
"Viper," a distorted voice spoke through the earpiece. "Status."
"On route," Shalom replied evenly. "Target location confirmed."
"Remember," the voice continued, "this mission is off the books. No mistakes."
Her grip tightened slightly. "Understood."
The vehicle slowed, stopping near an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city. Rain had begun to fall, soaking the cracked pavement and washing away footprints that never should have existed in the first place.
Shalom stepped out into the night.
The Obsidian Circle did not tolerate failure. It tolerated love even less.
She moved with precision, her footsteps silent as she approached the building. Her mind was clear—until it wasn't.
Kevin's face flashed in her thoughts.
She pushed it away immediately.
Love was dangerous. Attachment was a weakness. She had learned that lesson early, painfully.
And yet, she had still fallen.
A vibration in her pocket startled her. She paused, frowning, then pulled out her phone. A single message glowed on the screen.
Kevin: Did you get home safely?
Her heart clenched.
For a moment, the assassin disappeared, replaced by a woman standing barefoot on a balcony, wrapped in a man's arms.
She typed back quickly.
Shalom: Yes. I'm home. Get some sleep.
A lie.
She slipped the phone back into her pocket and continued forward.
Inside the warehouse, shadows shifted. Somewhere above, someone moved. Her instincts sharpened, every sense on high alert.
She didn't know that on the opposite side of the city, Kevin Blackwood was also preparing for a mission.
She didn't know that his orders came from the same organization.
She didn't know that fate was already tightening its grip around both of them.
And when the truth finally surfaced, it would not be gentle.
Because love was never meant to survive in the dark.