The sharp crack of it shattered through the heated air, cutting through the haze of pleasure and passion that had wrapped around us.
Killian’s body tensed instantly. His grip on me tightened for a fraction of a second before he moved. In a blink, he was off me, grabbing his discarded pants from the floor and pulling them on with practiced precision.
My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline mixing with the remnants of desire. My body was still bare, tingling from his touch, but the moment had flipped in an instant—from raw intimacy to imminent danger.
His movements were swift, calculated, controlled. But his jaw was tight, the muscle there ticking with restrained fury. The heat between us just moments ago had transformed into something else entirely.
“I’m sorry. Are you alright?” He cupped my cheek, his touch gentle despite the tension radiating from him.
I nodded quickly. “Get dressed.”
He grabbed his shirt while I hurried to pull on my bra and panties. Before I could reach for anything else, he was there, helping me into his shirt.
Another gunshot rang out.
My breath hitched, my body going rigid. My eyes darted to the door. Thank God, everyone had gotten out safely. But looking at the security here… who would dare to open fire?
Killian paused in the middle of helping me, our eyes locking.
I swallowed hard and pushed him away, rushing to get fully dressed while he strode to a wardrobe in the corner. He yanked it open, pulling on a simple black T–shirt with effortless grace. I followed his lead, my fingers trembling slightly.
“You expecting someone?” I asked warily.
“No.” His voice was clipped, his eyes sharp.
“How delayed do you think I can be?” I forced a breath, trying to steady my nerves.
Another gunshot.
I shut my eyes, my heart slamming against my ribs. This time, the fear settled deeper.
“How long do you have?” Killian’s voice was calmer than it had any right to be.
“I absolutely cannot miss breakfast at eight.” My voice was quieter now, but firm.
Warm hands cradled my face, grounding me. “You’re safe,” he murmured.
I nodded.
“Open your eyes.”
I did.
“Ten minutes.” He kissed my forehead before grabbing a gun from the glass display and handing it to me.
“Keep it. Just in case. You know how to use it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
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He moved to a wooden shell near the comer, pulling open a drawer. Another gun. He glanced back at me, eyes unreadable.
“Ten minutes,” he repeated. “There are guards outside. This will be over soon.”
He climbed the stairs with quiet efficiency, and I followed, keeping my distance. He reached the door at the exact moment it swung open with a resounding thud.
A guard stood there.
“There’s been a situation, sir,” the man reported.
Killian tilted his head slightly, as if to say, I can see that.
“There was also a situation at the Anderson Mansion.”
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That got my attention.
Killian’s gaze flicked to the guard, who stiffened under the weight of it.
“Josh reported that Miss Anderson has not returned yet.”
A low chuckle escaped Killian as he turned to look at me.
I cleared my throat, exhaling in relief. Josh was punctual. Two hours meant two hours.
“No worries,” Killian said smoothly. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so I couldn’t hear the specifics of his orders. Then, straightening, he
addressed the guard. “Stay here. Guard her.”
Another gunshot rang out.
Killian slipped an earpiece in, his expression darkening. As he stepped out of the room, his voice was the last thing I heard.
“How many are there?”
The door shut behind him. The guard remained, his posture rigid.
Silence followed.
I exhaled slowly, turning away. I grabbed my hoodie and my phone from the floor–then froze.
Panic shot through me. How could I be so careless?
I quickly picked it up, inspecting it. A small scratch marred the screen.
Blast it. I groaned internally.
Setting the gun back on the glass table, I glanced at the guard. He stood there, unmoving. A statue.
I twisted my lips, torn between reassurance and unease. I wasn’t in the middle of the gunfight, and that should be a good thing. But something about just waiting didn’t sit right.
Still, common sense dictated that I stay put.
I forced myself onto the sofa, trying to relax. It didn’t help. My anxiety clawed at my chest.
I glanced at the time. 1:45 AM.
My legs bounced restlessly. I ran my hands up and down my thighs, frustration mounting. Gathering my hair, I twisted it into a bun, my fingers moving on
autopilot.
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Then I grabbed my phone and pulled up the Devil’s Lair CCTV feed.
The image that appeared was a stark contrast to the eerie quiet of this room.
Outside, Killian moved like a predator–deadly, efficient, and utterly ruthless.
Three guards surrounded him, their movements coordinated, but none as fast as him.
A man lunged. Killian dodged effortlessly, pivoting on his heel, his fist slamming into the attacker’s throat. A strangled gurgle. A body crumpling to the floor.
Another opponent rushed in. Killian sidestepped, grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted—a sickening snap echoed through the feed. The man’s scream was cut short as Killian drove a knife clean into his chest.
Every movement was precise. Clean. Effective.
Six men. He killed them all in a matter of moments.
I stared, breathless.
The last man–wearing a gray T–shirt–his eyes rolled back as his body hit the ground. He looked like a gangster, but something about his face…
Why does he seem familiar?
I was still trying to place him when-
BANG!
The door burst open.
I jolted, my phone slipping from my fingers. A sharp crack sounded as it hit the floor. No!
My heart lurched, but before I could react-
A fight broke out.
The guard engaged in combat with a new intruder. But this one was different. His style was wild, unpredictable–freestyle.
The guard, in contrast, fought with calculated precision. Their movements clashed.
I picked up the gun, flicking the safety off.
They tumbled in a tangled mess.
4stood, steadying my breath, putting distance between us.
The intruder was fast. He recovered before the guard could regain balance. In a blink, he delivered a devastating blow to the guard’s head.
The guard collapsed.
My pulse roared in my ears. He took down the Shadow Knights outside and still had this much strength left?
Then the man turned to me, his lips curling into a snarl.
I finally got a good look at him.
Chinese.
And I’d seen him before.
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Chapter 31
Then grabbed my phone and pulled up the Devil’s Lair CCTV feed.
The image that appeared was a stark contrast to the eerie quiet of this room.
Outside, Killian moved like a predator–deadly, efficient, and utterly ruthless.
Three guards surrounded him, their movements coordinated, but none as fast as him.
A man lunged. Killian dodged effortlessly, pivoting on his heel, his fist slamming into the attacker’s throat. A strangled gurgle. A body crumpling to the
floor.
Another opponent rushed in. Killian sidestepped, grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted–a sickening snap echoed through the feed. The man’s scream was cut short as Killian drove a knife clean into his chest.
Every movement was precise. Clean. Effective.
Six men. He killed them all in a matter of moments.
I stared, breathless.
The last man–wearing a gray T–shirt–his eyes rolled back as his body hit the ground. He looked like a gangster, but something about his face…
Why does he seem familiar?
I was still trying to place him when-
BANG!
The door burst open.
I jolted, my phone slipping from my fingers. A sharp crack sounded as it hit the floor. No!
My heart lurched, but before I could react-
A fight broke out.
The guard engaged in combat with a new intruder. But this one was different. His style was wild, unpredictable–freestyle.
The guard, in contrast, fought with calculated precision. Their movements clashed.
I picked up the gun, flicking the safety off.
They tumbled in a tangled mess.
+ stood, steadying my breath, putting distance between us.
The intruder was fast. He recovered before the guard could regain balance. In a blink, he delivered a devastating blow to the guard’s head.
The guard collapsed.
My pulse roared in my ears. He took down the Shadow Knights outside and still had this much strength left?
Then the man turned to me, his lips curling into a snarl.
I finally got a good look at him.
Chinese.
And I’d seen him before.
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Not in person, but in KJM reports.
My stomach dropped.
One of Christen Meng’s men.
He came charging toward me, and I quickly vaulted over the glass table, dodging him and getting out of his way.
“I can’t believe it’s you! Huh!” he said, his accent thick, his voice like crushed pebbles grinding together.
I looked at him, confused, and raised the gun in his direction. He stopped circling the table, his gaze locking onto the weapon.
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“xião gu niang“, put the gun down.” He tried to soften his voice, attempting to sound sweet, but it didn’t work. “Your mother is waiting for you. She won’t be pleased that you’re colluding with the enemy.”
My mother? This lackey couldn’t possibly know about her. The only person he could be referring to… Adeline!
Seeing my distraction, he lunged at me. My instincts kicked in–I pulled the trigger. A deafening bang shattered the air, reverberating through me. Another shot rang out immediately after mine. My blood ran cold.
A bright crimson hole gaped in his forehead. His expression froze, the light fading from his almost–slit eyes as he crashed into the glass table. I staggered back, turning around.
Killian stood in the middle of the staircase, a smoking gun in his hand.
My shot had hit the man’s shoulder. His had struck his head.
How had today spiraled into this?
I closed my eyes, trying to collect myself. Stepping around the corpse, I took in the ghastly sight–his face smashed into the shattered glass, the once- pristine white floor now drowning in thick, dark crimson.
A hand covered my eyes. Another gripped my shoulder, pulling me into warmth. The heat seeped into my bloodstream, chasing away the chill,
“Killian,” I murmured, touching his hand.
“There’s no need to look at it,” he said, pulling me away.
I smiled without humor. “I’m not a child.”
“No, but it’s better this way.”
I removed his hand, blinking up at him. His eyes were darker than usual. I looked him over–at least he wasn’t hurt.
“You’re alright?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s over.”
“Good.” I nodded, feeling strangely numb. I turned to glance back at the man.
“Hey, no looking.” Killian pulled me back, gripping my chin so I faced him.
“You want me in your life or whatever, but I can’t even look at your handiwork?” I raised a brow.
“I know you don’t like it. There’s no need for you to bother with things you don’t want to see.”
I pressed my lips together, lowering his hand before glancing back at the body. The gruesome sight hadn’t changed, but I hadn’t forgotten what the man said before he died.
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“Do you know who he was?”
“One of Christen Meng’s men.”
“But which affiliated gang?” I met Killian’s gaze. “He knew Adeline.”
Killian’s expression hardened, his eyes calculating.
“He recognized me,” I continued. “That means he knew of me.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“Your mother won’t be pleased that you’re colluding with the enemy.”
“I’m the enemy?”
*You refused to support Nicolai. And then there’s her attempt to seduce you…” I shrugged, looking away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Killian’s expression darken, his gaze narrowing,
“You knew about that?”
“I saw it.”
He nodded, saying nothing. He didn’t need to. He was more than capable of piecing it together on his own.
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“The real question is—has anyone noticed my absence from my house? And why would Christen Meng’s men ambush me the same day I got here? Do they have some personal score to settle with you?”
I crossed my arms, my mind racing. If my cover was blown–not just here, but at the Anderson Mansion–this was going to be a disaster.
“We’ve had no recent contact or conflict with them,” Killian said. “But I get why they were here.” He looked at me.
“Adeline knows about me?” I asked, my stomach twisting.
“No. She doesn’t. And right now, no one can know you’re missing from the Anderson Mansion. But…” His gaze shifted toward the fallen guard near the
staircase.
Honestly, I couldn’t believe how fast the man had gone down. Weren’t Shadow Knights supposed to be unstoppable? The best assassins in the world- impossible to catch, impossible to subdue. They didn’t stop until their mission was complete… or they were dead.
“But someone let slip that M is here,” Killian continued, his voice like a blade scraping against steel. “That I have the perfect bait.”
He moved swiftly toward the fallen guard. My eyes followed him.
“I was looking for KJM’s owner,” he said, towering over the body.
And then it dawned on me.
“Adeline wants to find this new board member to support Nicolai,” I murmured, following his line of thought. “But she can’t ask for my help. So who else
would she turn to?”
“Christen Meng is looking for M too,” Killian stated.
I exhaled sharply. “Then I have to apologize to you, Love,” He said. “For the one thing I failed to realize.”
Killian crouched beside the guard.
The man’s body stiffened.
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A twitch.
A shallow breath.
All this time, he’d been pretending to be unconscious.
Killian’s voice turned ice–cold. “I seem to have a mole.”
A deadly silence stretched between us. The muscle in his jaw twitched. His fury was barely contained.
Then, with slow precision, Killian pressed the gun to the man’s head.
A/n–xião gù niang means Little girl in chinese.
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