The room was dim, lit only by a single chandelier casting fractured light over polished wood.
Fifteen men stood in disciplined silence.
Fiona stood before them, elegant in a dark tailored suit, her blue eyes calm—too calm. There was no hesitation in her movements as she slid a small white card across the table toward their leader.
"Lucien Ardent's residence," she said smoothly. "Tonight."
The man at the head of the table 'Cain Árabes' picked up the card without speaking. His expression did not change as he withdrew a knife from inside his jacket. Slowly, deliberately, he carved the address into the surface of the mahogany table.
Each stroke was precise.
A promise etched in wood.
The blade stopped.
He looked up at Fiona.
"It will be done."
She nodded once.
No handshake.
No further words.
The Black Blades moved as one, storming out of the room with quiet, lethal purpose.
Fiona remained alone for a moment after they left, her fingers resting lightly on the carved address.
"Let's see," she whispered softly, "how untouchable you really are, Lucien."
Night had fallen completely when Lucien arrived at his secondary mansion.
Ryan followed two steps behind him.
The estate was dark, every light deliberately turned off. The structure loomed against the night sky like a sleeping predator.
Lucien stepped inside and walked into the living room. A sectional couch sat in the center, still wrapped in protective nylon as though recently delivered.
He sat down casually.
Ryan sat opposite him, studying him carefully.
"You knew," Ryan said.
Lucien's golden eyes flickered faintly in the darkness.
"I suspected," he corrected.
Ryan leaned forward. "Why stay?"
Lucien's lips curved slightly.
"Because," he said softly, "tonight is going to be bloody."
Fifteen vehicles stopped a short distance from the estate.
The operation began without wasted motion.
Three men broke away immediately, scaling neighboring structures and positioning themselves across three different rooftops. Long-range rifles were assembled with mechanical precision.
Two others moved like shadows along the rear perimeter, blades drawn.
Six approached the front, rifles held low.
Cain remained in a black vehicle parked fifty yards from the mansion. Four members surrounded him, scanning the darkness.
He checked his watch.
"One."
The night held its breath.
"Two."
Wind brushed against silent trees.
"Three."
Simultaneously, three rifle shots cracked through the stillness. Upper windows shattered inward.
The alarm system roared to life.
Inside, Lucien closed his eyes briefly as the sound echoed.
Ryan stood instantly.
"It begins."
Lucien rose slowly. "Let them come."
---
The six armed men forced entry through the front after neutralizing the outer perimeter guards. Gunfire echoed through marble corridors and vaulted ceilings.
The two blade-wielders slipped inside through shattered windows, moving through hallways like living shadows.
In the basement armory, one of Lucien's guards grabbed an MP5 and rushed toward the upper floors. The sound of gunfire guided him.
Smoke began to spread as one of the guards deployed a gas grenade to obscure vision and disrupt formation.
Shouts. Footsteps. Controlled bursts of gunfire.
From a concealed corridor, six additional guards emerged in coordinated response, pushing back against the armed attackers and regaining interior ground.
But outside—
Another shot pierced inward from a rooftop.
One guard staggered and fell to the ground.
Near a reinforced interior wall, Beckham dropped to one knee. He discarded his empty weapon and picked up a Winchester from beside a fallen comrade.
He carved a narrow hole through the mansion wall using a metal tool, creating a small firing slit.
Geralt joined him, replicating the action.
"Beckham," Geralt muttered, "how did Lord Lucien predict this?"
Beckham peered through the scope.
"Honestly? I have no clue."
A pause.
"But it's best we end it."
He fired.
On a rooftop, one of the Black Blades collapsed from his perch.
The remaining two snipers shifted positions, searching for the source.
Geralt adjusted his angle carefully and took his shot.
Another rooftop threat was eliminated.
The last sniper attempted to reposition behind a chimney.
Beckham tracked the movement through the darkness.
One final shot.
Silence returned to the rooftops.
Geralt exhaled. "That should be all three."
But inside—
Footsteps approached fast.
The final blade-wielder appeared in the corridor behind them.
Beckham reacted instantly, pushing Geralt aside. The attacker's blade sliced across Beckham's back, drawing a sharp intake of breath.
Geralt spun and drew a pistol from his belt.
One precise shot ended the confrontation.
The hallway fell quiet again.
The leader remained in the car, calm.
Until—
Knock. Knock.
His eyes narrowed.
Lucien stood outside the window, illuminated faintly by distant mansion lights.
Árabes stepped out of the vehicle.
Immediately, multiple firearms surrounded him from every angle.
Ryan stood behind Lucien.
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"Who hired you?"
Árabes remained silent.
A warning shot rang out beside him.
One of his remaining men dropped.
Lucien's golden eyes locked onto Árabe's.
"You have one more man, What's it gonna be."
Silence.
Another shot.
Only Árabes remained.
Lucien walked closer as he raised his head up, their eyes met...Just then Lucien spat at Árabes eye and began counting, while he shouted in pains.
"Twenty."
"Nineteen."
Árabes's jaw tightened."fuck they didn't tell me you were this feeble...Just kill me you son of a bitch".
The night felt colder, Lucien shot as the bullet pierced through Árabes leg
"Ten."
Another bullet was fired this time to his left hand
"Eight".
"I wonder how much pain you can endure".Another bullet fired to his right hand
"Two—"
"Fiona," Árabes snapped. "And Conti."
Lucien smiled faintly."So those are the two filthy names, well then I guess...you may go."
Árabes struggled to move but somehow manged to get on his feet before falling back to the ground.
Lucien turned, a smile on his face. A single shot echoed as Árabes fell.
Lucien handed the gun back to Ryan.
"So," Lucien murmured, "Conti dares challenge me."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"And Fiona… still playing dangerous games, she never changes but she shouldn't think I'm her family members who accept her rouge behaviors."
The mansion bore visible damage; shattered glass, bullet-marked walls, overturned furniture.
Lucien sat on a newly placed couch in the center of the room as medics tended to the wounded.
"Honor the fallen," he said calmly. "Heal the injured."
The room grew silent.
"I have a task."
Every man present straightened.
"Two hundred fifty million for Conti."
A pause.
"Four hundred fifty million for Fiona."
The air felt heavy.
No one spoke.
Until Beckham stepped forward despite the bandage across his back.
"I'll take part."
Lucien studied him for a long moment.
"Get it done swiftly."
Beckham nodded.
Lucien turned " Anyonw who wants to assist you can " he added and walked out.
Moments later, the roar of a Lamborghini cut through the day as he and Ryan sped away.
Morning light filtered through the grand entrance of the Ardent Hotel "Eden Royale".
Evelyn stood at the reception desk assisting a client when Mr. Ardent entered.
He smiled warmly at her.
"Miss Evelyn," he said. "Would you meet me in my office later?"
She nodded politely, unaware of the storm unfolding around her
Lucien entered the office not long after.
Evelyn stood inside as Mr. Ardent offered her a formal apology regarding the party incident.
Lucien interrupted.
"Fiona is back in the U.S."
Mr. Ardent's expression sharpened.
"Your ex-lover?"
"She didn't come back to her senses."
Lucien turned briefly toward Evelyn.
She excused herself quietly and exited.
Once the door shut—
"She attempted to have me killed."
Mr. Ardent laughed lightly.
"Then handle it."
Lucien sat.
"Anthony Wally intends to run for presidency in eight months."His father chipped in.
Lucien remained composed, though surprise flickered in his eyes.
"He will relinquish his ministerial duties if he wins," Ardent continued. "I suggested the Minister of the West position go to his daughter."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"Minister of the West… not a bad title."
"But he must win," Ardent replied. "His primary rival is Cory Jasper, Minister of the South."
Lucien leaned back.
"That's not all. You wouldn't call me here just for that."
Ardent nodded slowly.
"I will run as Wally's vice."
Lucien's eyes sharpened.
"You'll become Minister of the North, I can't just give it to anyone you know what happens behind the scene in politics so I can trust you."
"So, are you going to finally drop this hotel ?".
Ardent smiled.
"I plan to hand ownership to Evelyn she seems capable".
The power structure of the country was shifting.
And the Ardent family intended to control it.
Later that evening, Evelyn sat with Bianca and Sofia at a cozy restaurant.
Bianca placed an envelope on the table.
"I'm quitting," she announced.
"What?!" Sofia gasped.
Bianca grinned widely. "I've been accepted into the U.S. Army."
The table erupted in cheers.
Then Sofia laughed nervously.
"Well yeah… I'm quitting too. Dalzu approved me for the lead role in an action movie."
Bianca screamed again.
Evelyn smiled warmly. "An actress. Just like you always wanted."
The excitement slowly faded.
Bianca studied Evelyn's expression.
"You're next," she said confidently. "You'll get into a major journalism organization soon."
Sofia nodded.
"Bigger things are coming, who knows you may even own one."
Evelyn smiled.
But deep down, something felt uncertain.
The mansion was still under repair when Beckham and Geralt began their assignment.
They did not celebrate. They did not speak of reward money.
They prepared.
Conti had money. Connections. Escape routes.
But he also had arrogance. And arrogance always left footprints.
They found Susan in a dim co-working loft downtown.
She did not look like someone capable of dismantling an empire.
Curly hair tied in a messy bun. Oversized hoodie. Headphones hanging around her neck. Three monitors glowing with cascading code.
She did not look up when Beckham and Geralt approached.
"You're late," she said flatly.
Geralt exchanged a glance with Beckham.
"You knew we were coming?" Beckham asked.
Susan finally turned in her chair.
"You work for Lucien Ardent. I traced the surveillance scramble from his mansion attack. Whoever did that cleanup had internal firewall access."
She tilted her head slightly.
"And only two field operatives logged movement patterns consistent with roof neutralization."
Geralt blinked.
"Did She just profiled us?."
Susan shrugged. "You're not as mysterious as you think."
Beckham stepped forward. "We need everything on Lorenzo Conti."
Susan's fingers began moving before he finished speaking.
"He already knows he's in trouble," she muttered. "Flight searches. Offshore account transfers. Burn phones activated."
Multiple files opened on screen.
Photographs.
Transaction logs.
Encrypted chat logs.
Then something darker.
Susan's expression shifted. "You're going to want to see this."
She enlarged a folder labeled: PRIVATE / ARCHIVE.
Inside were court records sealed years ago.
Payments to suppress investigations.
Statements from families.
Images that made even Geralt's jaw tighten.
"Child exploitation," Susan said quietly. "He paid to bury it."
More files surfaced.
Illegal weapons trades.
Contraband shipments masked as medical exports.
Political bribes.
"He's not just dirty," she added. "He's radioactive."
Beckham stared at the screen.
"Leak it."
Susan hesitated only a second before nodding.
Within minutes, anonymous tips hit journalists. Archived case files resurfaced. Social media erupted.
Conti's empire began to fracture in real time.
Conti watched the news in his private office.
At first, he laughed.
Then the second report aired.
Then the third.
The camera displayed blurred documents, coded transactions, archived testimonies.
His phone would not stop ringing.
Investors pulled back.
Political allies distanced themselves.
The investigation reopened.
He threw a glass across the room.
"Prepare the jet," he barked.
But commercial departure would be less suspicious now.
Conti got up storming into a Ford jeep white in colour.
He arrived at an international airport.
He chose discretion.
First class.
Australia.
A New identity waiting.
He believed distance meant safety.
The airport terminal buzzed with controlled chaos.
Conti moved quickly but not hurriedly, flanked by two remaining loyal guards.
Dark glasses.
Minimal luggage.
No eye contact.
Beckham and Geralt watched from separate entrances.
Susan's voice came through a secure earpiece.
"Gate C17. He's boarding now."
Beckham adjusted his jacket.
Geralt scanned the surroundings.
"Two bodyguards," Geralt muttered.
"Not for long," Beckham replied.
They boarded separately.
First class cabin.
Soft lighting. Polished wood accents. Privacy dividers.
Conti settled into his seat with visible tension.
The aircraft doors sealed.
Taxiing began.
He exhaled slowly.
He believed he had escaped.
"How did this happen, who could have done such a thing. I can't go down now not now ".
At cruising altitude, the cabin lights dimmed.
Flight attendants moved softly through aisles.
Beckham stood first, walking calmly toward the restroom at the front.
Geralt followed minutes later.
Conti's bodyguards noticed too late.
The confrontation was swift and contained between privacy partitions and muffled engine noise.
Passengers further back heard nothing beyond the hum of flight.
A brief struggle.
Suppressed shots.
Controlled movement.
No chaos.
No panic.
Within minutes, it was over.
Beckham adjusted his sleeve.
Geralt straightened his tie.
They returned quietly to their seats.
The rest of the flight passed undisturbed.
When the plane landed in Australia hours later, authorities entered the first-class cabin after crew reported a passenger unresponsive behind a locked divider.
What they discovered stunned them.
Lorenzo Conti's dead body, headless.
The news broke globally within hours.
Speculation ran wild.
Assassination.
Internal betrayal.
Organized retaliation.
No suspects identified.
Why and How did a notable politician die mysteriously.
Beckham and Geralt had already disembarked during a layover under alternate documentation arranged by Susan.
By the time the world reacted...
They were back in the United States.
Lucien sat in his office, one leg crossed over the other.
Ryan stood beside him.
The television displayed breaking news.
"…international businessman and US politician Lorenzo Conti found headless aboard a flight to Australia…"
Lucien laughed softly.
Not loudly. Not maniacally.
Just… satisfied.
Ryan folded his arms.
"They executed it cleanly."
Lucien nodded.
"Efficient."
The screen shifted to analysts debating political implications.
Lucien muted the volume.
"We need Beckham and Geralt on our side," he said calmly. "Twenty-four hours. Seven days a week, we need them."
Ryan glanced at him.
"For your ministerial ambitions?"
Lucien's golden eyes sharpened.
"If I am to become Minister of the North, I cannot afford instability."
He stood and walked toward the window overlooking the city skyline.
"Conti was noise. That's why he was easily defeated."
A pause.
"Fiona is strategic. I want to see how they will be able to bring her down."
Ryan tilted his head slightly.
"And politics?"
Lucien smiled faintly.
"Politics is war in a tailored suit."
The city lights reflected in his eyes.
"With the North under my father… and the West possibly shifting… we cannot allow the South to consolidate power."
Ryan understood immediately.
Beckham and Geralt were no longer just enforcers.
They were assets.
Strategic assets.
And Lucien intended to keep them close.
Very close.
Elsewhere
Susan watched the international headlines from her apartment.
She closed her laptop slowly.
She had crossed a line tonight.
There was no going back.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
"You did well," Lucien's voice said smoothly.
Her heart skipped.
"I prefer clean work," she replied.
"And loyalty?" he asked.
Susan hesitated.
"I prefer survival."
Lucien chuckled.
"Good. Then you'll survive with us."
The call ended.
Susan stared at the dark screen.
She had just become part of something much larger than hacking.
Conti's death sent a message through the underworld.
Lucien Ardent was not a man to test.
Political circles whispered too.
The Ardent family's influence was growing.
Anthony Wally's presidential campaign gained unexpected momentum, with Mr Ardent campaigning in the south and southeast.
Cory Jasper's camp grew cautious.
And Fiona—
When she saw the news, she did not cry.
She did not panic.
She smiled faintly.
"So," she whispered to herself, "you're escalating."
Her fingers tapped thoughtfully against her desk.
"If that's the case, Lucien… let's see how well you defend your throne."
Back in his office, Lucien turned to Ryan.
"Prepare a secure channel. I want Beckham and Geralt stationed permanently."
Ryan nodded.
"And Fiona?"
Lucien's expression hardened just slightly.
"She made her move."
He walked toward the exit.
"Now she'll learn the difference between strategy… and consequence."
The war had shifted.
Conti was gone.