Danger — Skyla Novea Abella

A sound. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, splashing through puddles.

"Sure you don't." He stopped ten feet away, close enough to be a threat, far enough to give her room to bolt. "I'm not here for the drive. I'm here to tell you that your contact drowned in the Pasig two hours ago. Accident. Very wet. Very tragic." skyla novea abella danger

Or get her killed before sunrise.

She pressed her back against the wall. Her hand slid to the small of her back, where a slim knife was strapped to her belt. She didn't like guns. Guns left evidence. Guns got sloppy. But a blade? That was intimate. That was a conversation. A sound

She pressed the edge closer. A bead of blood welled up. "I'm losing patience." "I'm not here for the drive

"I wish I was. He knows about the drive. He knows about you. And he's not sending thugs anymore." The man's eyes locked onto hers. "He's sending cleaners. The kind that make people disappear so completely, even their nightmares forget them."