"Tell me, stranger, are you looking for employees, or are you just another target waiting for a bullet?"
The woman's voice echoed through the vast, empty warehouse, smooth as velvet yet cold as polished steel. She kept the silver-plated revolver aligned perfectly with Rafael's chest, her pale hand unmoving under the dim shafts of moonlight filtering through the broken skylights.
Rafael did not step back. He stood at the base of the staircase, his dark suit tailored impeccably, his expression completely unbothered by the barrel pointing at his heart.
"A target usually runs," Rafael replied, his voice a low, commanding baritone that filled the quiet hall. "An employer simply evaluates the quality of the applicant."
The woman tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes narrowing as she
