Jo watched as the red dot steadied on her chest, stabilizing as the sniper she'd scoped out minutes ago finally found his mark. She raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by the display.

"...That's it? A sniper?"

If she wasn't in mortal danger, she may have laughed at the audacity of it all.

Jo studied the man who'd invited her to dinner under the guise of a much needed apology. A peace offering. A plea to mend what had been broken.

She gave him a scathing look.

She'd known it was a trap from the beginning, but a sniper? Really?

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"You've grown sloppy," she muttered, picking up the menu and flipping through it casually, as if she wasn't a moment's decision away from death.

"What's it been, only five years apart and already you're resorting to hitmen?" She gestured emphatically, clearly displeased.

"Darling, if you wanted to kill me, at least do it yourself."