We arrive back at the office after a few minutes of driving, the hum of the city a distant noise through the car windows. The sun is setting, casting a golden hue over the glass buildings and turning the streets into a labyrinth of shadows. I walk into my office, the familiar scent of polished wood and the faint aroma of coffee lingering in the air. I take my seat behind my mahogany desk, the weight of the day settling on my shoulders.
I’m about to open a document and start reading when I feel the cold press of metal against my neck, the sudden chill sending a shiver down my spine.
“Hello, krasivy,” Ivan’s voice rasps, his foul breath fanning across my skin, making my stomach churn.
“Hello, Ivan,” I reply, my voice steady despite the fear knotting in my chest. I reach for my gun in the
