Chapter 10: True Enemy
The rain tapped softly against the window, a gentle rhythm that matched the steady rise and fall of Zevren's chest beside me. We were curled up on the couch, a cheap action movie playing in the background—neither of us really watching. The aftermath of everything still hung heavy in the air, like smoke that refused to clear.
We hadn't gone on our honeymoon. Not yet. Not when yesterday's truths still lingered like shadows in the corners of our minds.
"Aeris," I murmured.
He glanced at me, curiosity in his eyes.
"Her father… he was our boss all along."
"Yeah," he said, looking up. "Sorry for lying to you, but—"
I sat up and gently pressed my fingers to his lips. He blinked at me, confused.
"You already said that yesterday," I said with a glare, then nestled back into his arms. "What I'm saying is—this guy, he manipulated both of us. He knew about our marriage. He made us fight each other just to see who was the stronger assassin."
"Isn't that what Aeris said yesterday?" he asked.
I sighed, frustrated. "You don't get it, do you?" I sat up again, facing him. "We were just entertainment to him. Like a game. And what I hate the most…" I clenched my fists. "Is being treated like a doll. A puppet."
"So you're saying…?" he asked, watching me closely.
I smiled, sharp and cold. "Of course. I'm going to take revenge."
He chuckled darkly. "Sure. I like that."
"But not now," I added, voice softening as I leaned into him. "Maybe tomorrow… I just want to enjoy being with you tonight."
His arms tightened around me, and for a moment, the world outside didn't matter. Just us—two assassins tangled in fate, finally choosing each other over war.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city…
A middle-aged man stood before the towering glass windows of a high-rise building, the city's lights reflecting in his cold, calculating eyes. He raised a crystal glass to his lips, savoring the burn of expensive liquor as if it could cleanse his thoughts.
A subordinate stepped into the room, bowing low. "Boss… Selene and the Ghost found out each other's identities."
A low chuckle escaped the man. Then he laughed—deep, sharp, and unhinged. "It's time already, huh?" He swirled the glass in his hand. "So… who won?"
The underling hesitated. "Um… actually, Boss, Miss Aeris stopped the fight."
The laughter vanished. "What?" His voice dropped, dangerous.
The subordinate flinched. "She also… she also revealed you were the one who sent them both on the mission."
Crack.
The glass in his hand shattered, red liquor dripping down like blood. "How dare… how dare my own daughter betray me like this?"
He turned toward the city with a cold gleam in his eye. "If she wants to play hero, then she can die like one."
Fury simmered beneath his calm facade.
"No one betrays me and gets away with it," he said coldly, each word cutting like a blade. "Even if she's my own blood."
He stepped forward, the glass crunching under his polished shoes.
"Prepare the others. It's time we remind them who the real puppeteer is."
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Zaira
I leaned back against Zevren, our bodies tangled beneath the sheets, the warmth between us a balm to all the chaos swirling around us. His breath was steady, his hand gently tracing circles along my spine, as if he was memorizing every inch of me.
His lips traced a path down my neck, each kiss sending shivers through me. The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, painting silver trails on Zevren's bare shoulders. Our breaths mingled, bodies pressed together under the warmth of tangled sheets. For once, there was no world outside. Just him. Just me.
"Zevren," I whispered, fingers threading through his hair.
He looked up at me, gray eyes dark with something deeper than desire. "I love you," he murmured against my collarbone.
Before I could reply—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
We both froze.
Another series of urgent knocks followed, louder, frantic.
I groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around me. "Seriously?"
Zevren had already sat up, his assassin instincts kicking in, grabbing a pair of black sweats off the floor. I slid out of bed, wrapping the robe around my shoulders and tying it hastily.
When we opened the door—
Aeris stumbled forward.
Blood smeared her face, her arms, dripping down her clothes. One eye was swollen shut, and her lips were trembling.
"Aeris?" I caught her before she fell, my voice sharp with panic. "What the hell happened?"
She looked up at me, her breath shallow, her lips trembling as she took in the sight of us. The blood on her hands, her clothes, her face — it wasn't just a scratch or a minor wound. She had been through hell.
"Aeris, talk to me!" I urged, my voice rising in panic.
"They… they're coming," she choked out, clutching my robe with shaking fingers. "My father knows… He's going to kill me."
Zevren stepped up behind me, his face hardening as he assessed the situation.
Blood continued to seep from her side, staining the floor beneath us.
"I tried to stop him. I tried to make him understand…" She gasped, her eyes pleading with us. "But he's ruthless. He—he doesn't care. He's going after everyone. And you two are at the top of his list now."
I quickly urged Zevren to grab the kit from my bag, my voice urgent but calm. As I guided Aeris inside, I gently lowered her onto the couch, my hands trembling with the gravity of the situation.
"Shush, it's okay," I murmured, trying to soothe her even as my mind raced with thoughts of what was to come.
Zevren returned swiftly, the first aid kit in his hands. He didn't speak, but the tension in his posture was clear — he knew just as well as I did that the worst was still ahead of us. I set to work, my hands steady despite the chaos swirling around us, tending to her wounds with quick precision.
I carefully cleaned the blood from her side, my heart aching at the sight of the deep cuts and bruises. She had taken a beating — not just physically, but emotionally too. Her eyes, wide with panic and fear, met mine for a brief moment.
"You're going to be fine," I reassured her, my voice soft but firm. "Just breathe, Aeris."
As I applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, I motioned for Zevren to get ready. The moment was fleeting, but I knew it. The calm before the storm was ending. The man who had caused all of this — Aeris's father — was coming, and we needed to be prepared for whatever was next.
We had no time to waste.
Here's your enhanced, cinematic version with a cliffhanger ending and over 500 words:
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Blood soaked through the towel in my hand as I pressed it firmly against Aeris's side. Her breathing was shallow, her skin clammy, and the wounds were still oozing. I'd done my best to clean them, but we weren't even halfway through the process. Every second counted, but the unease curling in my gut screamed louder than the ticking clock on the wall.
Zevren stood nearby, silent, tense — like a wolf on the edge of a pounce. His eyes were fixed on the windows, the shadows beyond them, the stillness that felt… wrong.
"Aeris," I whispered gently, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. "Stay with me, okay? You're safe here."
But even as I said the words, I felt it.
A shift in the air.
A disturbance.
A flicker in the light.
And then—
A blade sliced through the silence.
Fast.
Deadly.
Aimed straight for my heart.
But Zevren moved before I even registered the threat. With a sharp metallic clash, he blocked the attack with one arm, barely glancing in the direction it came from. The sheer precision — the way he moved without needing to see — left even the attacker stunned. There was the briefest moment of eye contact between them, predator meeting predator, and then Zevren turned to me.
"Knives," he muttered, and I knew exactly what he meant.
Without hesitation, he reached into his belt and tossed me my twin daggers. They flew through the air in perfect synchrony — handles first — and I caught them like muscle memory had taken over.
I turned just in time to face our intruder.
The assassin wasn't like the ones we'd encountered before. No insignia. No familiar pattern in their strikes. Their entire presence was a void — no sound, no soul — just darkness wrapped in human skin. A mask covered their face, and their movements were ghostlike, flickering from one shadow to another.
"Your friend is finally here," I growled under my breath, stepping in front of Aeris.
"That's not my friend," she rasped from the couch, trying to sit up, "but he was always watching."
Zevren's eyes flickered towards Aeris. "He knew you'd run."
The attacker lunged again, this time toward Aeris.
I stepped in without thinking, blades clashing midair. The momentum nearly knocked me back, but I held firm, twisting to parry and slash, moving like liquid fury. Zevren joined the fight with deadly grace, pushing the attacker back, away from Aeris — away from me.
It was a dance of death, fast and brutal. The sound of steel was the only music.
But then the masked figure jumped back, landing on the windowsill.
A faint hum of energy flickered in their hand — not a weapon, but a trigger.
"No!" Aeris screamed, eyes wide in horror. "It's not just him — he's sending more!"
Before we could reach them, the assassin threw the device into the air.
It blinked red once…
Twice…
And then the walls around us exploded.
Smoke.
Flames.
Glass.
My ears rang. I couldn't see Zevren. I couldn't hear Aeris.
All I felt was the searing heat and the weight of ash settling over me like a storm.
And then — a shadow moved through the fire.
Not the assassin.
Someone *worse.*
To be continued...
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