?Chapter 971:


    After finishing her meal, Elena returned to her room. She reached for her encrypted phone and sent a contact request to Nightshade—the world’s top assassin.


    The approval came almost instantly. Nightshade’s profile photo was a nk ck square, exuding an aura of quiet danger. He didn’t seem like the talkative type.


    To her surprise, though, he messaged first. “What’s your rtionship with Wesley Spencer?”


    Elena froze for a moment at the unexpected question, squinting her eyes as she searched for any hint of Nightshade’s true motives. Why would a hired assassin, tasked solely with protection, be interested in personal rtionships? What difference did her connection with Wesley possibly make to the mission? She quickly typed her response. “That’s irrelevant to your mission.”


    Just beyond the wall, Wesley reclined casually in his chair, eyes fixed on his phone screen. Elena’s dismissive tone barely fazed him. With a yful grin, he fully shifted into his Nightshade persona and continued to press her. “You’re handing out eighty billion just to keep Wesley breathing—he’s gotta mean something to you.”


    Elena raised an eyebrow. Was she dealing with a hired assassin or a tabloid reporter? Her suspicion piqued, she typed a quick message to SecondBest instead.


    “Are you absolutely certain you hired a real Nightshade?”


    SecondBest immediately responded, his confidence clear, “Positive. Something wrong?”


    SecondBest surmised that Nightshade had been off the grid for half a decade, and maybe he’d lost his edge, prompting Elena’s question. He rushed to reassure her. “Nightshade took on a job from my dad years ago and actually saved my life from an assassin. Trust me, he’s real.”


    Elena’s suspicion was dispelled. So SecondBest had encountered Nightshade personally. That meant the person she’d reached out to moments earlier was definitely the real deal. With that confirmed, she didn’t push it further. She texted back. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” She then closed the conversation and reopened Nightshade’s chat window. “How certain are you that you can handle Scarface?”


    Her ignoring his earlier question entirely only made Wesley’s smile widen. He tilted his head, clearly entertained by her evasion. She hadn’t admitted anything—but she hadn’t denied it either. And in his book, not denying was as good as admitting. He was indeed important to her. That satisfied him.


    L??€$? ￠??t?€я? ?η ?@lи?νεl?.c?m


    He typed back swiftly. “Consider it done. Scarface won’t be an issue.”


    Elena paused, evaluating whether his assurance was genuine confidence or mere bravado. She asked, “Scarface is already in the. When can you be here?”


    Wesley took a thoughtful moment before keeping his reply deliberately cryptic. “Rx, I’ll arrive before he does.”


    In a way, Wesley was telling the truth—he was alreadyfortably settled here, long before Scarface’s expected arrival.


    Elena still found this Nightshade a bit off, but since he’d pledged to arrive before Scarface, she decided to let it go. She logged out of the chat without another word.


    Wesley sat, staring at his phone, counting the seconds as silence stretched between them. Did she seriously just cut him off without another word?


    Sliding his phone into his pocket, Wesley stood up smoothly and gave Elena’s door a casual knock.


    A momentter, Elena opened it, finding him waiting calmly at the doorway. She braced a hand against the doorframe, blocking his way in. Elena tilted her head back slightly, eyes narrowed. “Something you want?”


    .


    .


    .