On the left wall..suits, arranged by color. Deep charcoal, slate gray, jet black, navy blue, winter white. Each one pressed, tagged, and neat.
Beside them are the shirts. Button-downs, all neutral tones. Whites, off-whites, greys, blacks, muted blues. Then a whole separate row for casual tops, T-shirts, fitted knits, high-end linen.
Pants were on their own side. divided into office trousers, casual trousers, and leisure wear.
At the center wall: shoes.
Loafers. Dress shoes. Sneakers. Boots. All designer. All shiny,
Color-coded. Leather, suede, matte, patent. Even the laces looked expensive.
Belts?
Enough to start a store. Every texture.
There's also a watch cabinet, locked and glowing.
Ties, arranged like artwork.
Hoodies and jackets, all folded into drawers that slid out like silk.
Jewelry sat behind glass on a display island,rings, cufflinks, chain sets, all clearly top shelf.
Serena let her eyes move slowly across the room.
Zayne watched her for a moment before speaking.
"He changes twice a day at the office," he said.
"One for morning meetings. One after lunch. He doesn't wear anything twice. So, you'll need to pick a second outfit every morning and pack it."
Serena raised her brows a little.
"Closet rotates every month," he added.
"He doesn't like seeing the same set more than four weeks in a row."
She looked again at the rows of options, then nodded once.
"Got it."
"I'll leave you to it then" Zayne said, stepping back.
"Fifteen minutes."
He left, closing the door behind him.
Serena exhaled slowly and rolled up her sleeves.
This wasn't just dressing a man.
It's like curating a brand.
She moved smoothly through the space,, picking with ease. Her style was clean, exact. She selected a black fitted suit for the morning, paired with a crisp white shirt and a steel-grey tie. Matte black belt, classic silver watch, polished leather shoes.
For the second outfit, she chose a charcoal two-piece with a deep navy shirt, pretty and perfect for his style.
She folded them carefully and placed them into the leather garment bag hanging near the door.
If Wolfe Hayes is going to trust her with his image, then she's going to make sure he walk into that office building looking like exactly who he was.
A threat dressed in perfection.
---
[Ten Minutes Later]
Serena stood in front of Wolfe, finishing the last button on his shirt.
"All done," she said, stepping back.
Wolfe stared at himself in the mirror, without saying a word.
She reached for the suit jacket, but he shook his head once.
"No."
His voice was low, as always.
He kept looking at his reflection like the world was already behind him, if proud of my face was a person.
"Get me my gum," he said with his eyes still on the mirror.
Serena turned, picked up the gum pack from the dresser, and pulled one out. She held it toward him, expecting him to take it.
Instead, he turned and faced her, then he opened his mouth.
Her hand stilled.
For a second, she just stared at him. His perfect face. His sharp jaw, thick brows, dark eyes that didn't blink. His lips,soft, red, and parted like he knew what he was doing.
He did know what he was doing.
Serena blinked once, then leaned in and gently placed the gum on his tongue.
Wolfe smirked, his pink tongue even looking pretty before he returned it into his mouth.
That slow, devilish kind of smirk. Like he could taste more than the gum.
Then he turned around, both hands sliding into his pockets,then he walked out of the room like nothing had happened.
Serena stayed still, she batted her lashes and bit her lower lip.
She needed a way out.
Fast and quick one.
She don't wanna last long in a place like this.
Not with a guy like him.
She needs to finish this job..ASAP.
A very quick one, maybe for the sake of new readers or you just don't know yet. I'm not a writer who changes what I've planned because of readers or coz of what you want. I'm not writing to baby anyone, I have my books planned out before I start.
"Please make him fall first" "Please don't make her fall first"..."Please they shouldn't fall in love".....nah..I have anger issue,telling me what to do will only push me to block you.
I want mature readers here, and trust me it's not by age. I want mature readers who read and connect,and at the same time wouldn't forget it's all fiction 🙄
I write for you, you read, simple. I make my own rules in my books, I'm the protagonist and also the antagonist,na me dey run am.
Five black cars pulled into the private parking lot at the same time, all moving in sync.
The moment the engines went off, security guards rushed out from their posts. All dressed in black. All moving fast and in order.
From the second car, Zayne stepped out first. He was already adjusting his jacket as he turned and opened the back door himself.
Wolfe stepped out.
No one spoke or moved unnecessarily.
All the guards quickly formed two straight rows on both sides of the path. They bowed as Wolfe walked between them, not a single one raising their head until he passed.
Behind him, Zayne fell into step. Then Serena.
Her heels clicked once on the pavement, but she quickly adjusted her pace, matching with Zayne's own.
The rest of the guards followed right after in Perfect rhythm. Like a formation drilled a hundred times.
Wolfe didn't speak. He didn't even look around. He just walked straight, his hands in his pockets, like the world was nothing more than background noise.
Inside the building, the effect was instant.
Staff stopped talking. Phones were lowered. Heads turned.
Everyone who saw him greeted him. Some with a bow. Some with a soft "Good morning, Mr. Hayes."
Wolfe didn't react. His eyes didn't move. He walked through the main floor like he was alone in the space.
And still, everyone greeted him.
Every. Single. Person.
Serena watched the way people looked at him. How they feared him. How they respected him.
The elevator doors slid open ahead.
Wolfe walked in without a word.
Zayne stepped in after him. Serena followed.
The rest of the guards stayed back and bowed again.
The doors closed behind them, and the silence inside became thick.
Wolfe stood at the front of the elevator, his hands still in his pockets, chewing his gum slowly and softly.
Zayne stood behind him to the right, Serena to the left.
It was quiet.
Only the soft hum of the elevator climbing floors.
Serena's thoughts began to move fast.
How is she going to do this?
Wolfe is obviously always surrounded. Always watched. Always guarded, there are more than a hundred guards working for him.
There are no quiet corners. No alone time. Not even a single second to breathe near him without someone else breathing too.
And even if she does find the right moment, if she aim and pulled the trigger, there is still a fifty percent chance she wouldn't make it out alive.
No...no..
This mission isn't just about pulling the trigger.
Not yet.
This one needs something more.
Patience.
A smarter plan.
And she'd find it.
She have to.
Because the closer she get, the harder it would be to miss.
And even harder to walk away.
--
[INSIDE THE CONFERENCE HALL]
The heavy double doors opened without a sound.
Wolfe walked in, and every executive at the long glass table rose to their feet.
No one said a word, they just bowed in full respect.
Zayne stepped in right behind him, followed by Serena, tablet already in her hand.
She slowed slightly, her eyes moving across the room.
Twelve men stood around the table, all in dark suits, all older than Wolfe obviously, Some in their forties. Others clearly past fifty. One or two near sixty. All waiting. All bowing their heads,for a twenty-four-year-old.
She said nothing. Just watched as Wolfe made his way to the seat at the center of the table, higher than the rest. Elevated, like it had been designed for him and no one else.
This isn't influence, she thought. This is power..like...insane power.
He sat down, one leg crossed on the other, One hand on the table, the other still in his pocket..if confidence was a person, just come get Wolfe Hayes.
"Sit," Wolfe said.
The men obeyed instantly.
Serena took the seat to his left, glancing at the screen in her hand, ready to take notes. Zayne remained standing just behind them, his arms folded and his expression locked down.
Wolfe didn't waste time.
"Let's begin." He mumbled nonchalantly.
The man nearest to him on the right cleared his throat and stood.
"We'll start with the estate reports. Q1 has outperformed expectations in Dubai and Florence. Bookings are up 13% compared to last year. Singapore is stable. Expansion in Morocco is on hold due to permit delays."
Another man took over without pause.
"Cape Town's renovations are finished. We reopened the cliffside villas last week, and they are fully booked already. Dubai wants to add a second wine cellar, under the Hayes Reserve brand, and this is such a great one.." He smiled.
Others nodded in agreement.
Wolfe's expression didn't even change.
Serena typed quickly, her eyes flicking between the men and Wolfe. Every time a new country or project was mentioned, Wolfe barely nodded.
The executive at the far end of the table raised a file.
"We've also been approached by a French distributor. They're pushing for exclusive rights to Hayes Reserve for the next five years."
Wolfe finally spoke.
"No."
The room went still.
"They want us exclusive," the executive said again, more carefully.
"It's a big contract."
"I don't care about big," Wolfe replied.
"I care about control. Giving one hand the whole glass means they'll crush it when they want more."
Serena paused. She stared at him.
No emotion in his voice. Just fact. Logic. Cold and clear.
Wolfe looked at the man again.
"Decline it."
"Yes, sir."
Another stood.
"There's progress in the Napa Valley project. Harvest timeline for the next Hayes vintage is on track. We've also tested three new blends for the Reserve label."
Wolfe leaned back slightly in his chair, hand still on the table, his thumb tapping once. That was the only sign telling them he's even listening.
And yet, he remembered everything. Replied only when needed. Cut down bad ideas before they bloomed.
Serena didn't expect him to be stupid.
But this smart?
Nah...
It caught her off guard...really off guard.
She glanced sideways at him, just once.
He doesn't lead like a rich boy.
He leads like someone born for war.
Then it happened.
Wolfe's hand stilled. His head tilted, slightly.
A number flashed across the screen behind them, a percentage loss from one of the properties in Switzerland. Small, but unexpected.
He looked up.
"Why is Geneva down?"
The room held its breath.
The man across from him,gray suit, thick black hair, smooth face, stood slowly and calmly.
His name is Lawrence Halsten.
He's the Chief Global Director, the highest-ranking executive under Wolfe himself. Everyone else deferred to him when Wolfe isn't present to speak.
And Serena didn't miss the way he moved. Confident. Polished. Almost too polished.
"Temporary shift,"Lawrence said.
"A few of our partners pulled funding on the spa renovations. We've already replaced the contractors. That number will adjust by next month."
Wolfe's eyes locked on him.
Cold and Quiet.
"You let that happen?"
Lawrence kept his smile polite.
"Just a minor dip. Nothing that touches overall performance."
Behind him, two other directors, Marcus Lee and David Vaughn, shifted in their seats but said nothing. Serena caught the way they glanced at each other.
Minions, she thought. Of course he has them.
Wolfe leaned forward just slightly.
"I don't want temporary dips," he said.
"I want zero damage. Control your board, or I'll find someone who can, what the heck?" He said.
Everyone stood at once even though his voice was mad calm.
Even Serena flinched at the sudden movement.
Wolfe stayed seated.
"Sit."
They obeyed.
The meeting continued, but Serena's mind didn't move with it for a moment.
She typed. She listened.
But her eyes kept flicking back to Lawrence Halsten.
There's always a snake, she thought.
And this one?
He didn't even bother to hide the smile on his face.
Motherfucker.
--
[ELYSIAN GALLERY]
[The most exclusive mall in Chicago]
The glass doors shimmered like water, untouched by dust or any stain. Inside, the Elysian Gallery fells less like a shopping mall and more like a private kingdom. Soft gold lighting glowed from high ceilings. Sculptures framed each corner. Every store looked like it had its own VIP policy, and every shopper walk like royals.
Elysian isn't just expensive.
It's a whole wealth.
Guards in sleek suits stood at polished glass entrances. A soft scent of fresh orchids lingered in the air, mixed with high-end perfume and new leather.
Inside Verelma Luxe, one of the most expensive designer boutiques in the entire mall, a voice broke the calm.
"Not that one! Are you blind?"
The girl standing in front of the velvet platform had a dress in one hand and a glare in her eyes. Her long brown hair slicked into a perfect high ponytail. Her skin glowed like she hadn't touched stress a day in her life.
That's Avianna Duclair.
Youngest daughter of Illinois Governor Harold Duclair. The only child of his second wife, the one who refused to live anywhere near the first. Avianna lives in Chicago full-time. The governor only visits when he have to.
But Avianna? She got everything.
Raised in wealth. Dressed in luxury. Trained to walk, talk, and move like a future first lady.
And in her head,she already is.
"I said Wolfe's best color on women is bright red!" she snapped at the boutique attendant.
"Why would you bring me this... beige nonsense?!"
The assistant stammered, trying to apologize, but Avianna had already turned her back and walked toward the high-end section at the back of the store. The sign there read: Private Collection.
Her bodyguards waited outside the boutique entrance, standing tall but saying nothing. They don't follow her into stores anymore. They know better.
She stopped in front of a mannequin wearing a scarlet silk gown, deep-cut, floor-length, stitched with tiny crystals along the side slit.
Her lips curled into a smile.
"This is it," she said softly.
"Tonight is dinner"
She'd been invited, or maybe she had invited herself. It doesn't matter.
They'd grown up side by side. From elementary school to high school. Every charity event, every press photo, every holiday dinner. Everyone around them used to whisper, they'll get married one day.
Wolfe never said anything or acted like he cares.
But she knew he would come around eventually.
Who else would it be?
"Wrap this up," she said, snapping her fingers.
"I want the shoes in the display too. And make sure it's charged under my personal account. If anything goes wrong, I'll tell Wolfe myself."
The boutique staff moved quickly.
Because everyone in Elysian knows one thing:
No one tells Avianna Duclair 'no.'
Especially when Wolfe Hayes is part of the sentence.
--
[6:00 P.M, Hayes Global]
Serena followed behind Wolfe and Zayne as they walked through the glass hallway of the upper floor. The two men were deep in conversation, in low voices, calm tones but she couldn't hear a word.
Not like she was trying.
She was too tired to care.
Her feet are screaming in her heels. The back of her legs ached. Her shoulders were stiff from carrying her bag and tablet all day. Even her neck hurt.
They had been walking non-stop. All day. From one floor to another. From meeting rooms to conference halls. From in-person meetings to online calls. The amount of names, deals, brands, and fake smiles she had seen today could fill a whole report.
Even the lunch break they gave her? Nothing worth calling food. A few tiny bites on a tray that looked pretty and tasted like nothing.
She was drained.
This wasn't what she imagined when she got the mission. Assassin work might be ugly, but it's cleaner than this. At least she got to sleep. She ate full meals. She didn't spend her day hunched over a damn iPad, typing and tapping and listening to people talk about business she doesn't care about.
Her heels clicked behind them as they finally stepped outside the building. The sky was already turning orange. Evening air hit her skin, but it didn't help.
She cleared her throat and looked at Zayne.
"Where are we going next? And when do I get to go home?"
Zayne didn't answer right away.
But Wolfe stopped.
Turned around slowly. His face calm.
"Zayne didn't tell you you're supposed to be living at the estate?" he asked.
Serena blinked.
"He said it like an option."
"It's not an option," Wolfe said. His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"It's not a suggestion either."
He took a step toward her.
"I need my assistant available. Always. That's what the job is. If you're not ready for that, say so now. You'll still be paid for today. We'll contact the next person on the list."
Serena straightened, trying not to let the fire in her legs or the pressure behind her eyes show.
"No," she said quickly.
"I'll move in tomorrow."
Wolfe rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Go home. Start properly tomorrow."
He turned without waiting for a reply and got into the black car waiting by the curb. Zayne followed, closing the door behind them.
The car pulled away, tires silent on the polished stone.
Serena exhaled slowly.
She flagged down a cab and got inside. The second she sat down, she kicked off her heels and leaned back with a deep sigh.
Just one day, and she already felt like she'd been chewed up and spit out.
And Wolfe Hayes?
She hates him.
His voice. His rules. His presence.
She doesn't know what exactly he did to make their client want him dead... but she is sure of one thing.
He deserves it.
She clenched her fists in her lap.
"Please stop if you see a good restaurant on the way," she said to the cab driver.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
Serena stared out the window.
Tomorrow, she would move in.
And start again.
Not as his assistant.
But his end.
--
[HAYES FAMILY HOUSE]
The black car rolled past the open gates, and the moment it stopped, the guards near the front steps stood straighter.
Some of them rushed out.
All of them bowed.
Wolfe doesn't live here anymore.
But his grandmother and younger brother still does.
And so does the guards.
And the maids.
And memories that hadn't left.
The estate had been in the family for decades. It held things even money couldn't touch.
Wolfe stepped out of the car, Zayne right behind him. The guards nodded again as they passed, but Wolfe didn't respond. His expression stayed blank...as always.
Inside, the lights were warm. Clean floors, tall pillars, quiet air.
He hasn'tbeen here in weeks.
His parents died when he was ten. A car crash. His father was driving. His mother was beside him.
Wolfe had barely made it out.
His younger brother,Ezren,was only a four years old back then. He wasn't in the car. He was the only one untouched.
Wolfe never forgets that day.
To Be Continued.