The body lay motionless on the polished marble floor, blood pooling. Detective Sarah Reeves crouched beside the victim, examining the wounds. A single gunshot to the chest had silenced him forever. The luxurious penthouse seemed untouched, no signs of forced entry. Sarah's keen eyes scanned the room for any subtle clues. A faint scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air. On the desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey stood untouched. The victim's phone buzzed, a message notification lighting the screen. Sarah reached for it, her gloved hand hesitating momentarily. The message preview revealed only two words: "It's done."