The vibration wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
The moment I felt my phone buzz inside my handbag, something inside me shifted.
Conditioning.
Training.
Instinct.
I reached in casually, careful not to draw attention, and glanced at the screen.
Nyx 010
My stomach dropped.
That code wasn't casual.
It wasn't informational.
It was operational.
And like we had been trained — drilled over and over in sterile rooms with emotionless instructors — the second we saw that sequence, our minds stopped being personal.
They became tactical.
My pulse slowed.
My breathing evened.
The world sharpened.
"Alex, excuse me. I'm going to use the bathroom."
He looked at me calmly, as if nothing in the universe had shifted.
"I'll be in the upper room," he said.
Upper room.
VIP level.
Of course he would be.
I nodded lightly and turned away.
Each step toward the restrooms felt ordinary.
But inside, my brain was already calculating exits, blind spots, distance from entry points.
—
The restroom was quiet.
Marble floors.
Soft lighting.
The faint scent of expensive soap and perfume in the air.
I entered one of the stalls and locked it behind me.
Then I pulled out the real device.
The tab.
Small. Matte black. No brand. No reflection.
Every spy carried one.
Phones were decoys.
This was truth.
I activated it with my fingerprint.
The screen lit up instantly.
The message loaded.
MISSION 034: MARK BOOMLORD
IN THE MORNING TIME.
AT THE ART GALLERY
AN ADD ON MISSION.
> There is a man called Mark Boomlord.
Big mafia.
Selling weaponry equipment to Spain contacts.
Eliminate immediately.
Others have neutralized his helpers.
Finish him and end the chain.
Details in file.
No greeting.
No emotion.
Just orders.
I opened the file.
His face appeared first.
Mark Boomlord.
Mid-forties. Heavy build. Balding slightly. Sharp eyes that didn't trust easily.
Location: VIP suites. Private gallery section.
Security: 4 bodyguards. Close formation.
Weakness: Prefers isolation when inspecting high-value art acquisitions.
Weapon recommendation: Silent. Close range.
My jaw tightened.
So he was here.
In the same building as Alexander.
The irony almost made me laugh.
I scrolled further.
Blueprint of VIP level.
Cameras.
Blind spots.
Emergency exits.
I memorized it.
Then powered the tab down.
Gone.
I slipped it back into my bag.
Next.
Weapons.
I reached into the hidden compartment of my handbag and pulled out two slim daggers — matte black steel, lightweight, curved just enough for precision.
I lifted my skirt slightly and strapped them against my thighs, securing them with elastic holsters beneath the fabric.
Comfortable.
Accessible.
Invisible.
I tightened my black hair into a firm knot at the back of my head.
No loose strands.
No distractions.
The mirror reflected someone different now.
Not Evie.
Not the girl flustered by whispers in the garden.
This was muscle memory.
This was Nyx's asset.
And I needed to finish fast.
Because I wanted to go back to Alex.
The thought annoyed me.
Focus.
—
I exited the restroom calmly and headed toward the elevator.
The hallway buzzed with polite conversation and soft laughter. The gallery's elegance contrasted sharply with what I was about to do.
The elevator doors slid open.
Inside: mirrors on three sides. Gold-trimmed panel buttons.
I pressed VIP level.
The doors closed.
My reflection stared back at me.
Composed.
Cold.
Ready.
The elevator dinged softly.
Doors opened.
The VIP level was quieter. Softer lighting. Plush carpet. Expensive champagne glasses in guests' hands. Art pieces displayed in private alcoves.
And there he was.
Mark Boomlord.
Standing near a small crowd.
Laughing too loudly.
Gold ring flashing under the light.
Two bodyguards at his sides.
Two behind him.
Close formation.
Annoying.
I blended in.
Picked up a champagne glass from a passing tray.
Observed.
I needed him alone.
But he wasn't stepping away.
I scanned the room.
Crowd density.
Exit routes.
Then my eyes landed on it.
A large marble statue positioned near the center of the hall.
A replica of David — tall, naked, impossibly detailed.
White marble gleaming under spotlight.
Priceless.
Fragile.
Perfect distraction.
I moved casually behind it, pretending to admire the craftsmanship.
Measured its balance.
Calculated force needed.
Then—
I pushed.
Hard.
The statue tilted.
For half a second, time froze.
Then—
CRASH.
The sound exploded through the room.
Marble shattered violently against the polished floor.
Gasps.
Screams.
Champagne glasses dropped.
Security alarms began to beep faintly.
Everyone rushed toward the noise.
Bodies crowded around the fallen statue.
Confusion.
Shock.
Anger.
Exactly what I needed.
Mark Boomlord stepped back instinctively, pulling away from the chaos.
His bodyguards reacted instantly.
Two formed a shield.
Two scanned surroundings.
They moved him toward the side corridor.
Isolated.
I slipped through the moving crowd silently.
Heart steady.
Breathing controlled.
They escorted him quickly down a side hallway toward a private exit.
I followed at a distance.
Taking cover behind pillars.
Wall corners.
A catering cart.
They were efficient.
But so was I.
The hallway narrowed.
Less people.
Less noise.
One bodyguard glanced back.
I ducked behind a sculpture stand.
They picked up speed.
So did I.
The guards pushed Mark toward a private stairwell door.
Almost there.
I needed to strike before they reached the lower level.
Because once they did—
It would be harder.
I reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh.
The cool metal slid into my palm.
My pulse didn't spike.
My hands didn't shake.
This was what I was trained for.
Ahead, the stairwell door swung open.
They moved inside.
I sprinted the last few steps and slipped in before it closed.
The stairwell was empty.
Echoing.
Concrete walls.
Dim emergency lights.
Footsteps descending rapidly below.
Four bodyguards.
One target.
I tightened my grip on the dagger.
And followed them down into the quiet.
This man was trying to make it hard for me on purpose but that's not not gonna be easy.
They then got Infront of a door and got inside it. I carefully ducked around the cameras. So that they won't spot me .
I got there too to the room and knocked.
One of the body guards got on the door and when he was opening it ,l pushed it back with my whole strength.
I ducked down and then punched him in the groin and took out my dagger and sliced hus throat, pushing him back.
I was doing everything so that l won't get tainted with the blood..
The other three ,then came launching at me with their all,and Swiftly as how am used to it, l got down,my leg curving down and it made two of them fall down.
Even though they were strong and tall,that gave me an advantage they weren't able to control their bodies that much if in a fight.
Most of the times,I took out my other daggers and three one precisely to the other one standing, in his forehead. He died on the spot.
I then rolled on the ground and stabbed the other two who were laying there. I got up immediately and then jumped over the bodies and went to him.
"Am so sorry,please don't kill ne,. I will give you everything..."
" No thanks.."
"Noo....." I then stabbed him twenty times from him head down to his toes,in seconds.
" Well am. Done for today." I wiped the sweat off my head and then left to go and refreshen up I the rest room.