The pocket watch gleamed under the flickering streetlamp, its rhythmic ticking filling the silence like a slow, deliberate countdown. Carrick narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the curtain as he watched the mysterious figure outside.
"Who the hell is that?" Victor's voice was tense through the earpiece.
Carrick exhaled. "Not sure. But he's not just some random thug."
Maximus grinned from where he sat on the couch, casually sharpening a knife. "You don't say? The whole 'ominous pocket watch in the dark' thing didn't give it away?"
Carrick ignored him, studying the figure carefully. The man didn't move-l, just stood there, flipping the watch open and closed, as if waiting for something.
Jack's voice crackled in. "Boss, I've run facial recognition through every database I could tap into. No match."
"That's impossible," Victor muttered. "If someone's connected to a five-million-dollar bounty, they should have some kind of record."
Jack sighed. "I don't like it either, but this guy? He's a ghost."
Carrick's mind raced. Whoever this was, he wasn't working for Zachary Gale, not directly, at least. The private contractor who posted the bounty had sent this man, but why not Samael?
Unless...
"Maximus," Carrick said, keeping his voice steady. "How often do assassins work against each other?"
Maximus looked up from his knife, his expression thoughtful. "Depends. Most hitmen avoid stepping on each other's toes, but when two contracts conflict..." He shrugged. "That's when things get messy."
Victor's jaw clenched. "Are you saying someone else put a bounty on Carrick to counter Samael's contract?"
Carrick nodded. "Or someone wants to test him."
Maximus chuckled. "You're making enemies faster than I expected, kid."
Carrick's eyes remained on the figure outside. "I need to know who sent him."
"Want me to go say hi?" Maximus smirked, twirling the knife between his fingers.
Carrick considered it for a moment. Sending Maximus would be the safest play, if things got ugly, he could handle himself. But something about this assassin bothered him.
"No," Carrick finally said. "I'll go."
Victor immediately protested. "That's a terrible idea."
Carrick smirked. "Then it's a good thing I like terrible ideas."
Before Victor could argue, Carrick was already moving.
Stepping outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. The streetlamp above the assassin flickered, casting elongated shadows across the pavement.
Carrick stopped a few feet away. "You've been standing there for five minutes. That tells me you either want me to see you or you're really bad at hiding."
The man chuckled, a deep, smooth sound that sent a warning through Carrick's instincts.
"I was wondering how long it would take for you to come out," the man said, flipping the pocket watch closed with a click. His voice was calm. Measured.
Carrick took in the man's appearance, broad shoulders, sharp features, eyes like polished obsidian. He wore a black trench coat, but underneath, Carrick could see the faint outline of body armor.
A professional.
"Nice watch," Carrick said casually. "Does it do anything special, or is it just for dramatic effect?"
The assassin smirked. "Time is everything, Mr. Zenith."
Carrick's eyebrow arched. "So you know my name. I don't know yours."
The man tilted his head. "Names are irrelevant in our line of work."
Carrick exhaled, crossing his arms. "You're not Samael."
"Correct."
"But you're after me."
A slow smile. "Not exactly."
Carrick's patience thinned. "Then what do you want?"
The man took a step closer. "To offer you a choice."
Carrick remained still, every muscle coiled. "I'm listening."
The assassin held up the watch and let it swing like a pendulum. "Samael was hired to kill you. I was hired to evaluate you."
Carrick's expression darkened. "By who?"
The man chuckled. "If I told you that, the game wouldn't be fun."
Carrick clenched his fists. "I'm getting real tired of these cryptic games."
The assassin's smirk didn't waver. "Good. Because this is not a game." He took another step forward, lowering his voice. "You're making enemies faster than you can count, Carrick. And some of them... are far worse than your father."
Carrick's jaw tightened. "So what's my choice?"
The man's eyes gleamed. "Prove yourself worthy... or die."
Carrick chuckled darkly. "That's not a choice."
The assassin smiled. "It is if you lose."
Carrick took a slow breath, keeping his expression unreadable. "When does the test start?"
The man grinned. "It already has."
Before Carrick could react, the assassin vanished into the shadows.
Back inside, Victor was fuming. "Are you insane?! That guy was a trained killer!"
Carrick sat down, rubbing his temples. "I know."
Maximus whistled. "Damn. A bounty from a private contractor and now a test from some unknown party? You must've pissed off someone really important."
Lila's voice came through the earpiece. "Boss, I've got news. And you're not gonna like it."
Carrick sighed. "Let me guess, more problems?"
Lila hesitated. "Samael just made his first move."
Carrick's blood ran cold. "What did he do?"
Lila's voice dropped. "He killed Carlo Marzetti."
Silence.
Victor cursed under his breath. "Damn it! He's sending a message."
Carrick exhaled. "And I just gave him a reason to accelerate his timeline."
Maximus grinned. "Well, kid. Looks like you've got two predators circling you now. Samael wants to hunt you, and mystery assassin wants to test you."
Carrick leaned back, his mind racing. Two threats. Two different games. One wrong move... and he was dead.
His fingers drummed against the table.
"I need to get ahead of them."
Victor sighed. "And how do you plan to do that?"
Carrick's smirk returned. "By becoming a bigger monster than both of them."
