The Man Who Sent the Assassins
"Who ordered you to kill me?"
A small tilt of Victor's head came before his words left his mouth.
He spoke softly, a hint of warmth in his voice.
"I want to personally express my gratitude."
A quiet change came across his face, the edge of a grin pulling tighter. It wasn't warm - more like a warning hidden in motion.
"For sending me some training dummies."
After a pause, his breath came out quiet, almost like a whisper.
"But I do have a complaint."
A slight shift brought Victor closer, humor glowing soft in his gold-flecked gaze.
"Those training dummies…"
"…weren't even good enough to give me a warm-up."
To Victor, it was a simple statement.
To the one crouched low at his feet -
A hush curled through the air, sharp with hidden meaning.
His gaze locked on, breath unsteady, face pale under a flicker of shock.
