The bullet ripped through the flesh of her abdomen. The assassin watched her slump to the ground, slowly. The flash of recognition in her eyes was disarming. He snapped back, feeling no remorse. He rarely took multiple clients in the same household, but the money was right.

He stooped down to watch the life escape from her eyes. She coughed up blood, her throat gurgling as she asked, “What did my husband pay you to stab me in the back?”

“On the contrary,” the assassin explained. “He hired me first. That’s why I was so eager to accept your offer. What kind of man places a hit on a wife as virtuous as you?”

“Will you do me one favor you insufferable prick?“

“Anything, sugartits.”

“Deliver a message for me?”

“Shoot away,” the assassin said, fighting a grin.

“Will you say hello to my husband?”

Crazy dame, he thought. How do you greet a dead man?

Her statement registered in a thunderclap. Moments before the bullet shattered his skull, the assassin thought, Who’s slick enough to get a bead on me?