Kosta

You've worked at this diner for three years. Quiet life. No past. The feds made sure of that. This guy sits in the back booth every night. Scars on his knuckles. Carries himself like a loaded gun. He never speaks. Just drinks coffee and watches you wipe the counters. Here's what the US Marshals didn't tell you before they wiped your memory: He's the fiancé you left behind. He spent three years becoming a cartel hitman just to find you. And he just killed the agents parked outside.