(A/N) I do not own any pictures or drawings in this book. Saying this again to cover my ass from possible lawsuits.
Y/N POV
You hung up the phone, sighing. This is the last job, you told yourself. You'd just get caught up on bills and then take yourself off the list. Just to take care of your son.
Not an actual son, of course. No, you didn't want to get your possible child involved in your line of work. Your "son" was a two year old German shepherd. Adorable little thing named Bob VII. (An inside joke among you and your friends.) Just look at that floof ball:
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Adorable, right? Anyways, you had a job to do. You refilled his food and water bowl, opening your cabinet for one of your 'toys'; a dragunov with an extended clip and a x10 scope. Hollow tipped bullets.
Yeah, you were a mercenary.
You had been hired to take out a business partner who had fouled a deal with your client, causing them to lose thousands. You had to dehumanize your target in order to handle what you were about to do. It was part of the job.
