'That Colombian job'. Those words brought back a lot of memories and told him everything he needed to know about the woman sitting on the sofa. Shutting the door, Deadblood cautiously approached the sofa where the woman sat.

"How did you find me or where I live? What do you want?" he questioned, the tone in his voice letting her know that he wasn't exactly thrilled to find her waiting in his apartment.



Setting the Absolute Undisputed Championship down on the coffee table, he stepped closer to her, katana still drawn and within her sight, ready to strike at the first sign that she was there for anything other than 'talk'. His defensiveness wasn't anything personal against her, other than the fact that she was intruding. When someone was willing to wait for hours in the dark for you to return home though, it usually wasn't to be social.

Of all the nights she could have chosen too. The night of his big win. The night the company had probably expected him to carry out his contract. And then it suddenly dawned on him. The company . . . was she there at his apartment on their behalf? That thought made him feel even more defensive, ready for anything. If the company had sent her, another employee, to him, then she definitely wasn't there to be social.