Halvorsen froze mid-sip, the glass of whiskey halfway to his lips. His eyes widened as they landed on Alex, standing there where a moment ago the room had been empty.
"You—" Halvorsen started, voice sharp with both recognition and fear.
Alex didn't give him a chance to finish. His hand shot out, and a blade of pure darkness extended from his grip, cutting through the air with a quiet hiss. In one clean motion, the blade passed through Halvorsen's neck.
There was no struggle. No sound beyond the thud of the glass spilling onto the carpet and the heavier sound of Halvorsen's body collapsing against the desk before sliding to the floor. His head rolled a short distance away, eyes still frozen wide in disbelief.
Alex let the blade dissolve back into nothing and adjusted his jacket sleeve. His expression was calm, almost bored.
"Should've stayed gone," he muttered under his breath.
He didn't bother with cleanup. The shadows swallowed any trace of his presence—the cameras saw nothing, the microphones picked up nothing, even the faint metallic scent of blood was absorbed into the dark.
Within seconds, Alex was already back in the elevator, riding down as if he'd never been there. By the time he stepped outside, he had melted back into the crowd of morning workers.
The black sedan was waiting at the curb. Sharon sat inside, phone still in her hand, scanning the feed from her surveillance. All she had caught was a sudden golden flare of light on her monitor, then static. Halvorsen's signal had gone dead.
When Alex slid into the seat beside her, she glanced at him. His green eyes were steady, his smirk subtle.
"It's done," he said simply.
Sharon studied him for a long second before nodding once. "Clean."
Alex leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes like the mission had been nothing more than a morning jog.
The sedan pulled away, leaving the high-rise behind—inside it, Halvorsen's reign had ended in silence, with no one the wiser.
The ride back was quiet. Sharon didn't ask for details—she didn't need to. Halvorsen was dead, and the way Alex carried himself made it clear it had been simple, clean, and final.
When the sedan pulled up outside his place, Sharon tapped the door once with her knuckles. "Good work. I'll file it as complete."
Alex opened the door and smirked faintly. "You sound surprised."
Her eyes flicked toward him, unreadable as always. "Not surprised. Just making sure you know I'll be watching."
He chuckled under his breath. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
She stepped out first, heels clicking as she crossed to another car waiting for her a few spaces down. Without another word, Sharon slid inside and was gone.
Alex shrugged to himself and headed upstairs. By the time he unlocked his door and stepped in, the smell of dinner hit him right away. Warm, comforting.
Inside, Colleen, Sue, and Maria were already gathered around the table. Plates of food sat between them—steamed rice, chicken, a few side dishes. Laughter lingered faintly in the air before they all looked up at him.
"You're late," Maria teased, raising a brow.
"Work," Alex replied casually, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket over a chair. He slid into an empty seat without ceremony. "Didn't think I'd be walking into a full house this early, though."
Sue smiled, setting her chopsticks down. "We finished training earlier than expected. Thought it'd be nice to cook together."
Colleen gave him a pointed look, though there was a hint of softness in her eyes. "So? How'd it go?"
Alex picked up a bowl and served himself a portion, his green eyes steady as he answered. "Quick. Clean. No problems."
Maria leaned on her elbow, studying him. "You make it sound like grocery shopping."
He smirked faintly, taking his first bite. "If grocery shopping ended with someone's head hitting the floor, then yeah—pretty close."
Colleen sighed and shook her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Always so casual."
He settled in, the four of them eating together as the night drew in outside.
The sound of chopsticks and quiet conversation filled the room. For a while, they just ate, the normalcy of it grounding Alex after the sharp edge of the day.
Maria finally broke the silence, leaning forward a little. "So… this Halvorsen guy. Was he really that dangerous?"
Alex chewed, swallowed, then set his bowl down. "Not dangerous enough. He hid behind money and mercs, thought that made him untouchable. People like him don't get their hands dirty—they pay others to bleed for them."
Sue tilted her head, her soft gaze holding his. "And you didn't… hesitate?"
"No." His tone was even, calm. "He should've stayed gone after Dravoss. Coming back was his mistake. I just made sure he wouldn't get another chance."
Colleen nodded slightly, as though she'd expected nothing less. "That's the job. Clean. Efficient."
Maria smirked faintly. "Still—kinda cold the way you say it."
Alex leaned back in his chair, green eyes glinting just enough to catch the light. "Cold keeps you alive. Besides…" He glanced around the table at them. "Coming back here, seeing this, is the only part that matters. I'd kill ten more like him if it meant protecting this."
That quieted the table for a beat. Colleen gave him a small, approving nod. Sue looked down at her bowl, a faint blush at the corners of her cheeks. Maria just rolled her eyes, though there was warmth behind it.
"You and your dramatic lines," she said, shaking her head.
Alex smirked. "What can I say? Truth sounds dramatic sometimes."
Dinner wound down after that, the mood lighter. Plates were cleared, the table wiped down, and soon the four of them drifted into the living room.
Maria stretched out on the couch with a book, Sue curled up in the armchair with a blanket, and Colleen sat on the floor, legs crossed as she sharpened one of her practice blades. Alex stood for a moment, watching them all—the edges of his world, right there, steady and real.
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