I was there. Outside Andrew Watson's fortress of secrets—the night is thick with tension, the kind that coils around your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. The mansion stood still like a beast before the hunt… until suddenly—
Bang. Bang.
Glass shattering.
Shouts. Alarms. Chaos.
The silence exploded. My pulse spiked. Something wasn't right. I pressed the earpiece deeper into my ear. Then her voice crackled through my earpiece—Miss Serena. Calm. Sharp. Always in control.
"Vincenzo, what's the update?" I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the mansion, heart hammering. "Ma'am… something's wrong. There's noise inside. Loud. Violent."
"What kind of noise?"
I exhaled slowly, the words tasting bitter. Gunfire. Glass breaking. Alarms. People running. Something's happened.
A pause. Heavy. Dreadful.
Those words didn't just cut—they carved. My chest tightened, a strange suffocation blooming inside me like poison. I couldn't breathe.
Eva. Caught.
No.
Not her.
My hand clenched the earpiece, knuckles white. Her voice snapped me back. "Vincenzo! Are you listening to me?"
I blinked. " Ah, Yes… Yes, I'm here."
"Good. Then listen. You need to leave. Now. If someone spots you, we're compromised. The entire mission goes down."
"But…" I whispered, my voice barely my own. "Ma'am… I can't leave her behind. She's not out yet. She will come. I know she will."
"She won't," Serena replied, her voice slicing straight through me. "Vincenzo," she warned, steel in her tone, "She's not coming out anymore. If they caught her—she'll take her own life before being used. That's how she's trained. That's who we are."
Then I said, "No."
I repeated, "No. I won't leave her."
Her anger cracked like a whip. "Have you lost your mind?! "
I didn't answer. I looked down at the small hairband on my wrist, which she had left behind earlier. Still warm from her touch. I ran my fingers over it, closed my eyes—and saw her.
Eva.
Smiling. Laughing. The storm in her eyes when she looks at me.
That girl didn't die tonight.
She wouldn't.
She can't.
I felt something break inside. Something I didn't even know was holding me together. "I won't believe that," I said, my voice trembling. "She's alive. I feel it. She'll make it. She has to."
Serena's voice went sharp, cold steel. "You're not thinking clearly. Remember who you are. We don't feel. We finish the job and disappear. That's who we are."
"I know who I am," I said quietly. "But tonight… I choose to forget."
"What?"
"I'm going in."
"Vincenzo—don't you dare!", She said.
But I was already pulling out the earpiece. Her voice faded—"Vincenzo? Vincenzo—"
Gone.
"I know, Ma'am. But this time… I'm breaking the rules."
I pulled the black mask from my coat and wrapped it across my face. My pulse was fire, my footsteps steel. The world behind me blurred.
And the world ahead?
It was war.
I was coming for her.
Even if it meant burning everything behind me to ash.
The wall loomed tall before me, crowned in sharp shadows. But I didn't hesitate—not when she was inside. With a swift flick, I hurled the rope, the hook catching just right. My fingers curled tight. My heart beat like war drums. I climbed—fast, silent, relentless. As my boots hit the top edge, a voice tore through the silence below me.
"Hey! Who are you?!"
I didn't flinch. I leaped from the wall like a shadow crashing down. My knees slammed into his chest, knocking him flat. My hand twisted his neck with a clean, brutal snap.
Crack.
The sound was clean. Instant.
I leaned close and whispered to the cooling body— "Your death."
His eyes froze open. And I moved on. Silent. Calculated. Deadly.
I stepped over his lifeless body and moved forward—each step careful, calculated, a predator in the shadows. And then I saw her. Through the tall stained glass window, bathed in the amber glow of chandeliers… Eva. Surrounded. Guards behind her like wolves. And in the middle—
Andrew Watson.
My jaw tightened. Rage curled in my chest like a snake ready to strike. Without wasting a second, I climbed higher—my hands finding grip on the stone, my breath steady. At the center of the roof, a glass dome gleamed under the moonlight. I raised my fist and slammed it down. The glass shattered like a scream—raining down in a glittering storm. I pulled out the rope again and dropped it down through the opening. For a moment, nothing. Then—she saw me. Our eyes met through the chaos, and I saw it—the flicker of relief, of recognition, of fire. She grabbed the rope, her white dress stained with ash, and began to climb. I pulled—my arms straining, heart racing, pulling her closer, closer, until— She was here.
Right here in front of me.
I dropped the rope, stepped forward, and without thinking, pulled her into me—our bodies crashing like two storms finally meeting. My face was buried in her shoulder. Her scent—smoke, sweat, danger—made me dizzy.
"You're here," I whispered. "You're safe."
She gripped my back, breathless. "We need to move. Now."
We climbed down the other side of the building. But the second our steps hit the ground—shadows rushed toward us.
Three men. Guns drawn. Faces tight with orders.
I turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "You go first," I said, cocking my gun. "Let me clean this up."
"No", she said.
"Go, Eva", I said my eyes locked to her.
She hesitated for a heartbeat that nearly killed me, then turned and climbed the wall.
The first man lunged. I shot once—clean through the chest.
The second fired—I ducked, rolled, and fired back. He crumpled.
The third ran. I didn't let him.
When the last body hit the ground, I scaled the wall, my heart pounding with her name in every beat. We ran through the shadows, our boots slipping on the gravel, our breath sharp in the night air. We slid into the car—doors slammed, the engine roared. The tires screeched against the pavement. The mansion faded behind us, swallowed by darkness.
Inside the car, Eva turned to me, chest rising and falling like waves at war. My fingers closed around hers instinctively. Protective. Possessive. Her lips parted to speak. She whispered, her voice barely surviving her breath, "Thank you, Vincenzo… If you hadn't come tonight, I wouldn't be breathing right now." I gripped her hand tighter—my thumb tracing her knuckles slowly, possessively, like I was memorizing her.
"I told you I'd save you. And I did. Not because it's a favor, Eva…"
I tightened my grip, brushing my thumb over her knuckles as if to warm her soul back to life.
"But because you're my need. You've become the oxygen in my lungs."
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the pain she had buried behind her strength cracked for a moment. Then, without a word, she unclipped her seatbelt and climbed over to me—knees on the seat, body melting over mine. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, burying her face in the crook of my neck, her breath shaky. Like I was the only thing grounding her—the one steady presence keeping her from crumbling. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other sliding instinctively to her waist, drawing her even closer. Then, a tear slid from her eye. I felt it land on my skin—hot, silent, sacred. And I said nothing. Because sometimes, silence says what words never could.
When we reached Headquarters, the energy shift was like a slap. The air inside the building was thick with tension, a silence so heavy it could crush a man beneath its weight. Everyone was gathered. Their faces were grim, haunted by what they'd heard. Then Matteo spotted us. His eyes widened. "Sir… Ma'am!"
The room spun as heads turned. The silence shattered murmurs and the thunder of rushing feet. Bria reaches to us, eyes wide and watery. "Thank God you're okay. When we heard the alarms... we feared the worst."
But behind them all, unmoved—like a ghost carved from cold marble— Miss Serena.
Her voice sliced through the warmth like a blade— "Vincenzo. Eva. In my office. Now."
We followed her into her office. The door clicked shut behind us, and she turned like a blade unsheathed.
"What you did today, Vincenzo… was unacceptable," she said, eyes burning. "I don't expect recklessness from the best spy in this country. You disobeyed direct orders. And this is not the way you were trained to react in these situations."
I didn't flinch. I met her stare. "Ma'am… I apologize for disappointing you. But I don't regret what I did. And I accept any punishment you see fit."
Before she could speak, Eva stepped forward—fire returning to her eyes. "Don't punish him. He saved me. And in doing so, he also saved the mission. If I hadn't escaped, the crucial information I uncovered would've been lost forever."
Serena's gaze flicked to Eva. A pause. A beat of silence. Serena narrowed her gaze. "What is it?"
Eva took a breath and then spoke. "When I was in Andrew Watson's office… he came in. He spoke to me. He said he threw that party for me. That he knew a woman was out to bring him down. And he wanted to meet me... because he wants to play this game."
"What?" Serena's voice cracked with suspicion. Her face froze. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"This changes things," she whispered. "He's aware of us now. He won't sit quietly. He'll enjoy this war. He'll turn it into a game—and we're his opponents." Then she asked sharply, "Did he see your faces?"
We answered together. "No, ma'am. We're sure he didn't."
She exhaled, but her expression was unchanged. "Good. But from this moment forward—every step we take must be perfect. Every move is calculated. One wrong breath, and we're dead." Then, after a long pause, her voice softened. "Go rest. Both of you."
We nodded, then turned to leave.