The dorm was empty when I arrived. Leo hadn't followed, and his siblings were nowhere to be seen, so I made my way to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the day before before collapsing onto my bed. I checked my things—nothing disturbed, nothing missing. Clearly, no one had dared to touch my possessions.
Not that I trusted any of them. Especially Max. He never remained silent when I was near, our blood too hot for complacency. The thought of what he might be planning, letting me breathe just two meters away, made my skin crawl.
Three days passed. Leo didn't bother me. At school, I rarely saw him, usually only when he was in the company of his gang of friends, causing trouble. If he caught my gaze, he'd give me nothing but a cold, blank stare. Max was almost as invisible—he appeared only to change or sleep, slipping away before I could notice his departure. Only Ace lingered, his presence constant, silent, watching.
I walked into class with him when my phone rang. Kiel.
"Damian's looking for you," Kiel said immediately after I answered.
"I'm on my way," I replied, ending the call.
I spun down the crowded hallway, leaving Ace behind—or so I thought—until his hand gripped my arm.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"Kiel. Your father wants me," I said, and continued walking.
Back at the dorm, I threw my bag onto the bed, retrieved the keys to my favorite motorcycle from the drawer, and headed straight for the Fontanilla mansion. Sebastian met me at the entrance. Damian was waiting in his office.
"Do you remember Mr. Hipolito?" Damian asked, swirling the glass of amber liquid in his hand.
"Yes," I replied, economy of words my default.
"His daughter was raped by Governor De Guzman's son. I need you to handle it. Mr. Hipolito is a big player in my business. You cannot fail." He leaned back in his swivel chair, eyes closed, exhaustion etched in the line of his jaw. I didn't respond, merely listened.
He opened an envelope and slid it across the desk. Photos. The first was a girl—Trixie Ann Hipolito, a senior high student at Oxemburge. Eighteen years old. The second: Ferdinand De Guzman. The same brat who had played tough with Amber before.
"They're students at Oxemburge. Hipolito's daughter is senior high; De Guzman's son is second-year college. Hipolito wants it done before midnight. You handle him. First shot—groin. Second—forehead. I don't care if you use a gun or a knife. Do it."
I studied the photos, drawing my own conclusions. Amber was behind this. She had orchestrated my previous encounter; if I hadn't been an assassin, I'd likely be dead. No doubt she'd manipulated events here too.
"Copy," I said, returning the envelope. Damian nodded, dismissing me with a flick of his hand.
Back at the dorm, I gathered my weapons: silenced pistols, knives, anything I might need. A demon, that's what I felt like, prepared to kill without hesitation. My target's crime—rape—made it personal.
I checked the floor plan, the dorm layout, memorized every guard rotation. Max's sharp gaze followed me, Leo lounged in silence, and Ace simply watched, silent and calculating. From that moment, Max and I were enemies, Leo a perpetual witness to my wrath.
At ten o'clock, I reviewed Ferdinand's details: 2nd Dorm Building, Room 304, roommate Calix Anderson—the same thug who had swung a baseball bat at me.
Clad in black, hair tied neatly, I approached the building. Two guards at the entrance, three at the rear. I timed their distraction—smoke from their cigarettes—and slipped in, silencer-equipped pistol in hand. A single well-placed shot and one guard collapsed; the others didn't even have time to react before I vanished into the shadows.
The sixth floor. Two guards at the door. One distracted, the other scanning the earpiece. Both neutralized in seconds. I slipped inside.
A gun appeared in my line of sight. Blank-faced, disciplined—clearly expecting me. But my attention was already on Ferdinand, frozen at the fire exit.
"X-Xena? You're… an assassin?" he stammered, terror making his words stutter.
"Proceed," his guard hissed.
I didn't hesitate. The guard tried to raise his weapon—I disarmed him, kicked him down, and surged forward. Ferdinand dropped from the stairwell; I leaped over the railing, dodging a hail of gunfire.
He ran like a panicked animal across the field. I followed, throwing a small knife into his thigh. He fell. I reloaded, silencer in place, moving toward him as he crawled, desperate.
"Wait! Amber told me! She—she saw Leo!" he pleaded, raising a trembling hand.
"I know. I'm following orders too," I said, voice cold as ice. "You raped a girl. Her father wants you dead before midnight. Consider it mutual justice."
First shot: groin. His scream echoed. Second: forehead. He fell, limp, lifeless.
A final shot drew my attention—a guard, now running. He disappeared into the trees. Another mission accomplished. No remorse.
The next day, I walked to class as if nothing had happened. Police swarmed the field, investigating the crime scene, but I was untouchable. My work left no evidence. The public would never suspect Governor De Guzman's son, now dead.
I caught a glimpse of a familiar body being loaded into an ambulance. My brow furrowed. He hadn't faced me last night… yet here he was. I watched the ambulance pull away.
"I did it. Just wanted people to see Ferdinand's body. Otherwise, someone would've taken it," Ace murmured at my side.
"You don't interfere with my work, Ace," I said, cold, eyes locking with his before turning away.