Vanessa's violet eyes, shimmering like twilight amethysts, were the first and last things Troy saw. They held a universe he desperately wanted to inhabit, a quiet storm of beauty that shattered the icy shell around his heart. He, a ghost in the shadows, a blade in the night, found himself tethered to her light, a moth drawn to a dangerous flame.
But Troy's devotion was a twisted knot of love and death. He was a killer, a tool for those who dealt in shadows, and Vanessa, unknowingly, became his most perilous assignment. They didn't ask him to simply end her life; they asked him to erase her, to dismantle the very essence of her being, to snuff out the violet fire that had dared to ignite his cold soul.
He was tasked not with a clean, swift kill, but with a slow, agonizing unraveling. He was to become her confidante, her lover, her very breath, and then, with surgical precision, dismantle her trust, her joy, her very reason for being. He was to become the architect of her emotional ruin, a slow poison that would leave her a hollow shell, a ghost mirroring his own.
The unexpected twist wasn't just the betrayal, but the insidious nature of it. He was to love her to death, to make her love him back, and then, with the very same hands that held her close, shatter her world from the inside out. He wasn't just killing Vanessa; he was killing the hope she represented, the fragile belief in goodness he had long since abandoned. His love was a weapon, and her heart, the ultimate target.