Rafayel's car pulled up to Nana's art academy exactly on time. He'd timed it perfectly—knew her class schedule down to the minute, knew which exit she'd use, knew she'd be carrying her portfolio and wearing paint-stained overalls.
Knew everything about her.
She emerged with two classmates, laughing about something, and Rafayel felt that familiar possessive twist in his chest. Her smile should be for him. Only him.
Soon.
He honked lightly, and Nana's head turned. Her face lit up when she saw him.
"Rafayel!" She waved goodbye to her friends and jogged over. "What are you doing here?"
"Thought you might want company." He leaned across to open the passenger door. "There's a festival downtown. Want to check it out?"
"Really? Yes!" She climbed in, buckling her seatbelt with that enthusiasm that made his chest tight. "I love festivals!"
"I know."
She blinked. "How did you know?"
*Because I've been watching you for eight months. Because I know you go to every festival in the city. Because I've memorized every single thing that makes you smile.*
"Lucky guess?" He smiled charmingly. "You seem like a festival person."
She laughed, and Rafayel drove toward downtown, listening to her chatter about her art class, about a technique she'd learned, about her plans for her next painting.
He asked the right questions. Laughed at the right moments. Played his part perfectly.
All while planning how he'd eliminate Xavier and keep her locked in his mansion forever.
The festival was crowded—families, couples, the smell of fried food and cotton candy thick in the air. Nana's eyes went wide with excitement.
"Oh! They have game booths! Can we try some?"
"Whatever you want."
They wandered through the festival, and Rafayel bought her whatever caught her eye. Ice cream—strawberry, her favorite. A flower crown from a vendor that made her look like a fairy. A caramel apple she immediately started eating despite the mess.
He took photos of her with his phone, adding to his collection. She posed happily, completely trusting.
*So innocent. So perfect.*
"Rafayel, look!" Nana grabbed his arm, pointing to a game booth. "Knife throwing! The prize is that huge unicorn plushie!"
Rafayel's blood went cold.
The booth had a wooden target with balloons attached. Throw three knives, pop three balloons, win the prize. Simple.
Except Rafayel was an expert knife thrower. Had been trained since he was ten. Could hit a target at twenty meters in the dark.
Could also accidentally reveal skills that a "normal artist" wouldn't have.
"I don't know, Nana. I'm probably not very good—"
"Please?" She looked up at him with those devastating pink eyes. "I really want that unicorn!"
*Fuck.*
He couldn't say no to her. Physically couldn't form the words when she looked at him like that.
"Okay. But don't laugh when I miss."
"I won't!" She bounced excitedly.
Rafayel paid the vendor—a bored teenager who handed him three throwing knives without looking up from his phone.
*This is fine. Just throw badly. Miss on purpose. Easy.*
Rafayel took position, weighing the first knife. Poorly balanced. Cheap metal. Nothing like his custom blades at home.
He aimed at the target, deliberately adjusting his stance to look amateur.
Threw.
The knife wobbled through the air and stuck into the wood two inches left of a balloon.
"Ooh, so close!" Nana encouraged.
Rafayel relaxed slightly. Good. He could do this. Just miss twice more and—
"Hey mister!" A kid next to them pointed. "You're holding it wrong! The pointy part goes forward!"
Several people laughed. Nana giggled.
Something competitive and stupid flared in Rafayel's chest. The part of him that had been trained never to fail. Never to look weak.
*No. Don't. Just miss. Play the part.*
But Nana was watching him with such trust, such expectation, and he wanted—*needed*—to impress her.
"Let me try again," he said.
He adjusted his grip. Proper technique this time, but he'd still miss, just make it look accidental—
His muscle memory took over.
The knife left his hand in a perfect throw—rotation, velocity, trajectory all precise. It flew straight and popped a balloon with a sharp *bang.*
*Shit.*
"You did it!" Nana clapped.
Rafayel stared at the knife embedded perfectly in the center of the popped balloon. His hands were already reaching for the second knife before his brain caught up.
*Stop. Throw badly. Don't—*
Second throw. Perfect. Another balloon popped.
*STOP.*
Third throw. Perfect. Final balloon popped.
All three in under a minute. Professional-level accuracy that made the teenage vendor actually look up from his phone in surprise.
"Whoa. Dude. You're really good."
Rafayel's mind raced for an excuse. Any excuse. But Nana was already grabbing his arm, her expression caught between impressed and confused.
"Rafayel! How did you do that? You said you weren't good!"
"I... got lucky?"
"That wasn't luck! You threw those knives like a pro! Like, action movie level!" She studied his face, and Rafayel felt exposed in a way he never had before. "Have you done this before?"
"I... may have practiced. A bit. For art reference." The lie came smoothly. "I did a series of paintings about knife throwers last year. Had to learn the mechanics for accuracy."
It was a good lie. Plausible. But Nana's expression suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.
"That's... really dedicated? For art reference?"
"I'm very committed to authenticity."
The vendor handed over the giant unicorn plushie, and Nana hugged it, but she kept glancing at Rafayel with that confused, questioning look.
*Stupid. Stupid. You got cocky and you slipped.*
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Across the city, in his apartment, Xavier watched the entire scene unfold on his laptop.
His surveillance team had managed to hack into several festival security cameras and even planted a few operatives with body cameras in the crowd. He had multiple angles of Rafayel's knife-throwing performance.
And Xavier was laughing.
Not his usual quiet chuckle, but actual laughter—rare and genuine.
"Jihoon, come look at this idiot."
Jihoon appeared, coffee in hand, and watched the replay of Rafayel's perfect knife throws.
"Oh shit."
"He just revealed professional-level combat skills trying to impress her." Xavier replayed it again, his smile sharp and cold. "Three perfect throws in under a minute. That's not 'art reference' training. That's assassination training."
"So he's definitely not what he seems."
"No." Xavier's expression hardened. "He's definitely not."
A separate screen showed the detailed background check results his team had finally uncovered—the information buried deep, requiring significant resources to unearth:
**RAFAYEL - TRUE IDENTITY**
- Son of the Serpent Guild Leader
- Trained assassin since age 10
- Confirmed kills: 23
- Specialty: Infiltration, long-term deception operations
- Current mission: [CLASSIFIED]
Xavier stared at the profile, everything clicking into place.
The Serpent Guild leader's son.
Of course.
That's why Richard Anderson had introduced them—the old man didn't know. Thought he was separating Nana from danger when he was actually handing her directly to Xavier's enemy.
The irony would have been funny if Xavier wasn't currently watching Rafayel pat Nana's head on the surveillance feed.
His jaw clenched.
"He's touching her."
"Boss—"
"He's *touching* her." Xavier's voice dropped to something dangerous. "Buying her ice cream. Taking photos. Patting her head like she's *his.*"
On screen, Nana laughed at something Rafayel said, and the purple-haired assassin smiled down at her with an expression that Xavier recognized.
Possessive. Obsessed. Hungry.
The same way Xavier looked at her.
"Permission to eliminate the target?" Jihoon asked carefully.
Xavier was silent for a long moment, watching Rafayel guide Nana through the festival crowd with a hand on her lower back.
Every instinct screamed to teleport there right now. To materialize behind Rafayel and put a bullet through his skull. To eliminate this threat the way he'd eliminated every other threat to her.
But.
"No," Xavier said finally.
"Boss?"
"Not yet." Xavier's eyes never left the screen. "If I kill him now, Nana will ask questions. She'll want to know what happened to her new friend. Richard will investigate. It'll bring attention to me, to my operations."
"So what do we do?"
Xavier's smile was cold and predatory. "We watch. We gather evidence. And when the time is right—when I have undeniable proof of who he really is—we eliminate him in a way that makes Nana grateful I did it."
"That's... actually smart."
"I'm not just a pretty face, Jihoon."
"Could've fooled me."
Xavier shot him a look, but his attention returned to the screen. Rafayel was winning Nana another prize at a different booth—ring toss this time. He was deliberately missing, making her laugh.
Learning from his mistake.
Smart.
Dangerous.
"Boss?" Jihoon ventured. "What if... what if she actually likes him? Not romantically, but as a friend? What if eliminating him hurts her?"
Xavier's fingers tightened on his desk. The silver bracelet caught the light.
"Then she'll hurt. And I'll comfort her. And eventually she'll forget about the too-perfect artist who was never real anyway."
"And if she doesn't forget?"
Xavier finally looked away from the screen, his blue eyes ice cold.
"Then I'll make sure she remembers that I'm the one who's always been there. The one who's kept her safe. The one who *actually* loves her, not the one who was using her as a pawn in his father's war."
Because that's what this was. Xavier could see it now. The Serpent Guild was making a move, using Rafayel to get close to Nana, to use her against Xavier.
Classic strategy.
And it might have worked if Xavier hadn't kissed death itself since childhood. If he didn't recognize a predator wearing a pretty mask because he wore one himself.
Rafayel was good.
But Xavier was better.
And this was *his* city. His empire. His girl.
The Serpent Guild had made a fatal mistake sending their heir into Xavier's territory.
They'd given Xavier a hostage.
On screen, Nana hugged the unicorn plushie and smiled up at Rafayel with such innocent trust.
Xavier's expression softened for just a moment.
*She has no idea she's caught between two monsters.*
*That the festival is full of my operatives watching her every move.*
*That the charming artist is planning to use her to destroy me.*
*That I'm planning to destroy him first.*
She just smiled and ate her caramel apple and enjoyed her festival, trusting that the world was safe.
"Increase surveillance on Rafayel," Xavier ordered. "I want his schedule, his contacts, every property he owns. If he so much as breathes wrong, I want to know about it."
"Already on it. Boss... what about Miss Anderson? Do we tell her?"
"No." Xavier's voice was firm. "She can never know what he is. Can never know what I am. She gets to keep being innocent and safe and happy."
"Even if she's falling for his lie?"
Xavier's jaw clenched as he watched Rafayel wipe caramel from Nana's cheek with his thumb, the gesture intimate and possessive.
"She chose me," Xavier said quietly. "She kissed *me.* She's not falling for him."
"But she doesn't know she needs to choose between two devils. She thinks it's you and a saint."
Xavier was silent.
Because Jihoon was right.
Nana thought her choice was between Xavier—her childhood best friend—and Rafayel—a safe, artistic, normal guy.
She didn't know she was choosing between the Shen devil's and the Serpent Prince.
Between two killers who both wanted to own her.
"Then I need to make sure she chooses correctly," Xavier said finally. "Before Rafayel shows his true colors. Before this war comes to her doorstep."
"How?"
Xavier turned from the surveillance feed, his expression determined.
"By being exactly what she needs. By proving that whatever he can give her, I can give her more. By making sure that when the truth finally comes out..." His voice dropped. "She's already too in love with me to leave."
Jihoon absorbed that. "That's manipulative."
"I know."
"And possessive."
"I know."
"And probably toxic."
"I *know.*" Xavier's eyes flashed. "But he's dangerous and I'm dangerous and she's the only innocent thing in this entire situation. So yes, I'll be manipulative and possessive if it means she stays safe. If it means she stays *mine.*"
Jihoon sighed but nodded. "Understood, Boss. What's the plan?"
Xavier looked back at the screen one more time. Rafayel was walking Nana toward his car, the festival winding down. The assassin prince was playing his part perfectly—charming, safe, exactly what a girl like Nana would trust.
But Xavier knew monsters.
And he'd make sure this particular monster never got the chance to show Nana his teeth.
"The plan," Xavier said, "is to remind my Starlight exactly why she chose me in the first place."
He pulled out his phone and texted Nana:
*Hey Starlight. Miss you. Want to come over tomorrow? I'll cook. (Actual cooking, not instant noodles, I promise) 💙*
On the surveillance feed, he watched her check her phone in Rafayel's car, watched her face light up with that smile that was only for him, watched her type a response:
*You? Cooking?? This I have to see! 😂 Yes! I'll bring dessert! Miss you too Xaviee 💕*
Xavier's smile was soft and genuine.
Then he looked at Rafayel's profile photo in his database and the smile turned cold.
"Jihoon?"
"Yeah?"
"Prepare a strike team. I want them ready to move on my order."
"For?"
Xavier's eyes were arctic ice.
"For when I'm done playing nice."
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To be continued.