The assassin moved with ruthless precision, his de slicing through the air, sharp and cold with murderous intent.


    If that knife hit its mark, Evelyn''s hand would be done for―ruined beyond repair.


    The brutality of it sent chills down the spine.


    But just as the de brushed her skin-


    The woman "asleep" on the bed snapped her eyes open, clear and alert. Not a trace of drowsiness there.


    In a heartbeat, she twisted like a wildcat, narrowly dodging the cold glint of the dagger as she rolled off the side of the bed.


    Her long, toned legs shot out, and with a powerful kick, she mmed into the assassin''s chest.


    BAM!


    The heavy thud echoed in the silence.


    The assassin staggered, reeling backwards, a metallic taste in his mouth. It felt like his insides had all been scrambled.


    He''d walked right into a trap.


    He realized it instantly-he''d fallen for a meticulously nned setup.


    This woman was nothing like the Evelyn he''d read about in the files. She was fast deadly fast.


    His eyes narrowed. No point in sticking around. In one desperate, clumsy roll, he lunged for the balcony door.


    He''d checked the ce countless times before this was the only escape route.


    He yanked open the ss door. But as the night air flooded in, a sharper, deadlier force swept at him from the shadows on the balcony, aiming low.


    Someone else was lying in wait.


    Panic shot through him. He hadn''t picked up on any sign of this second person.


    These two... their skill was off the charts.


    Two against one. No way out.


    A sh of desperation crossed his eyes. With nowhere to run, he could only fight for his life.


    He twisted to block the blow, tried to counter, but two pairs of hands moved in, perfectly coordinated, ruthless and precise.


    Within seconds, he was overpowered-arms wrenched behind his back, knees mmed into the carpet. No chance left.


    It was over.


    The woman who''d pretended to be Evelyn got up, her face unreadable. She strode over, reached into the assassin''s pocket, and pulled out his phone.


    She unlocked it, flipped through the contacts, and opened thetest messages. Just as expected the instructions were right there: "Cripple Evelyn''s hand." Target confirmed.


    A cold smile tugged at her lips. Mimicking the assassin''s style, she typed out one line: [It''s done.]


    The reply came back almost instantly: [The money will be in your ount soon.]


    She tapped out a simple [Okay] and tossed the phone aside.


    Meanwhile, the other bodyguard was already on the phone. "Mr. Jenkins, an assassin tried to get into Ms. Evelyn''s room. He''s been taken care of. Ms. Evelyn is safe."


    With the call done, the two women worked together to tie up the assassin, dragging his limp body into the corner like he was nothing but garbage.


    Luna Estate.


    Charles followed the butler''s lead, his long steps echoing on the cold marble floor. Ding!


    Bzzz-


    Two phone notifications rang out at nearly the same time, shattering the silence.


    Upstairs, Luna paused, ncing down at her phone.


    The screen lit up-a message from the assassin she''d hired.


    A rush of wild, barely-contained excitement hit her. She forced


    herself not tough out loud, instead turning to Charles with a warm,


    wless smile. "Mr. Jenkins,


    Charlie''s room is upstairs. Please, let


    me show you."


    She stepped aside, gesturing graciously to the stairs.


    In that split second, Luna could no longer hold back. Her fingers trembled slightly


    as she opened the message.


    [It''s done.]


    Three little words-like the sweetest poison-shot straight to her heart.


    It worked.


    Evelyn''s hand... finally ruined.


    A thrill surged through her. Luna''s lips curled into a smile twisted with triumph and


    bitterness, as if she could already see Evelyn writhing in pain.


    The only thing missing was seeing it for herself.


    Downstairs, Charles kept moving, steady as ever.


    He nced at his own phone-the message there made the tension in his


    shoulders ease for just a moment.


    Just as he''d guessed.


    Luna... or rather, Dahlia, was at it again, her venom aimed at Eve.


    The relief that Eve was safe and the assassin caught faded quickly, reced by a


    cold, deadly resolve.


    He would never let anyone hurt Eve again.


    This whole "Charlie''s in trouble" call-ssic bait and switch.


    He lifted his gaze in time to catch thest flicker of Luna''s twisted smile, born from


    imagining Eve in agony.


    That smile was a poisoned dart, straight to Charles'' heart.


    A cial chill swept through his eyes, cold enough to freeze the air.


    But in the next instant, as Luna looked up, all that icy fury vanished hidden behind the mask of a worried father, his eyes filled with nothing but concern for Charlie. He quickened his pace, his voice tight but controlled: "Please, Ms. Cipoletti, lead the way."


    Luna quickly wiped away any trace of emotion, locking her phone and slipping on a mask of polite worry. She led Charles through the hall toward Charlie''s room, her face the picture ofposure.


    Charles followed, watching everything with quiet scrutiny.


    He hadn''t been able to see the second floor earlier-just the first.


    He was here, not just to check on Charlie, but because he was determined to get


    her out of this house.