Kal's eyes kept moving.
Dance floor.
Bar.
Stairs.
Back to her.
"Where is Clare?"
The music felt louder now. Lights shifted across faces, distorting expressions into masks.
Clare was gone.
Lost among spinning bodies and glittering dresses.
The woman beside him tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"You're not from here," she said softly. "Too tense."
Her fingers rose and brushed his cheek.
Warm.
Slow.
Kal's body reacted before his mind did , he pushed her hand away lightly.
Not violently.
Just instinct.
She smiled at that.
"You're young," she murmured. "Handsome too. Still pretending to be shy."
Her eyes scanned his suit.
"I like that."
Kal forced a polite smile.
"I have someone here."
He gestured vaguely toward the dance floor.
"I'm sorry, but… you're a bit older than my type, ma'am."
He lifted his orange juice and took a steady sip.
She didn't look offended.
Instead, she leaned closer.
And took the glass from his hand.
Her lips touched the rim where his had been.
She drank slowly.
Deliberately.
Then handed it back.
"I can show you a world," she whispered, "that a girl who just became a woman can't."
Her voice lowered.
"Why don't you accompany me to Hall Room Three?"
She tilted her chin upward.
Kal followed her gaze.
Above it, a circular viewing gallery ran along the inner wall, guarded by a carved railing where guests could lean and watch the performance below.
Behind the gallery stood a curved wall punctured with a series of evenly spaced archways. Through each opening lay a second, quieter inner corridor that formed a complete ring around the structure.
The private rooms opened from this inner ring. Each chamber faced outward toward the gardens beyond the building, ensuring privacy from the hall. Between every two rooms, the wall recessed slightly, creating narrow architectural gaps. Within each of these recesses, a tall window had been installed, looking out toward the estate grounds.
The woman's fingers traced his wrist lightly.
"You can see everything from up there," she said. "And no one interrupts."
Kal's heart beat faster.
He scanned the dance floor one more time.
No Clare.
No silver eyes.
Nothing.
He swallowed.
"I'll pass," he said finally.
She exhaled softly.
"I was hoping for a young companion tonight."
A small sigh.
Then she stood gracefully.
Kal watched as she walked toward another man at the edge of the dance floor. They exchanged a few words. She laughed lightly.
A gesture toward the stairs.
The man nodded.
Together, they began climbing.
Kal's stomach tightened.
Target confirmed.
He looked down at his watch.
Subtly tapped the side.
Typed a short message:
Target heading to Hall Room Three. Male companion.
Sent.
He waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
No reply.
The music felt heavier.
His pulse quickened.
Why isn't she responding?
Did something happen?
He looked toward the stairs again.
The woman and her companion had already disappeared past the railling curve.
Kal stood.
Adjusted his suit jacket.
Breathed once.
Slow.
Then he walked toward the staircase.
Each step upward felt louder than it should.
The party noise faded slightly the higher he climbed.
The corridor behind was dimmer.
Carpeted.
Quieter.
Doors spaced evenly.
Muted sounds behind some of them.
Laughter.
Whispers.
Music filtering up from below.
He glanced down over the railing.
From up here, the dancers looked small.
Detached.
Like pieces on a board.
Room Three.
The number glowed softly beside the door.
Kal's heartbeat echoed in his ears.
He glanced once at his watch again.
Still no response.
He swallowed.
Then stepped forward.
Kal didn't rush.
He never rushed.
He watched from the shadow where the corridor curved.
The woman and the man were pressed against the wall outside Hall Room Three. Lips locked. Her fingers tangled in his hair while she fumbled for the door handle behind her.
The door clicked open.
They disappeared inside without breaking the kiss.
Locked.
Kal's lips curled faintly.
A chill slid down his spine.
Not jealousy.
Not disgust.
Instinct.
He stepped closer to the door but paused before touching it.
The corridor wasn't as private as it felt.
Each room had a camera above the frame.
Visible.
Obvious.
But between the rooms, those gaps.
Decorative glass strips and wooden panels that created blind spots. Architectural elegance designed for privacy… and exploitation.
Kal studied the angles.
Cameras captured entrances.
Not the narrow spaces between rooms.
Smart.
Very smart.
He moved to one of the side windows and eased it open slightly.
Cool air from the garden below rushed in.
Three floors down.
Stone pathway.
Trimmed hedges.
A fountain.
PBV enhances the human body.
That memory surfaced.
Reflexes. Strength. Pain tolerance. Balance.
But enhancement didn't erase gravity.
He wasn't certain.
Not yet.
He closed the window quietly.
Too many variables.
Too exposed.
He stepped back, descended the stairs, and re-entered the party.
Noise swallowed him.
Lights.
Bass.
Laughter.
He walked to the bar with steady steps.
"A cigar," he said calmly.
His voice didn't tremble.
He didn't find Clare.
But she was there.
Across the hall.
Dancing with the handsome man.
They had drifted toward a dim corner, away from the bar's line of sight.
Clare's position made it difficult for her to see him clearly.
"Shit!"
The man leaned closer to her ear.
"Why don't you accompany me to the bed?" he murmured. "Your partner looks young. Not much experience."
He smirked faintly.
"Looking at you, I almost feel jealous."
Clare smiled.
Slow.
Measured.
She ended the dance deliberately and leaned back against the wall.
One heel resting against it.
Relaxed.
"I like young males," she said softly. "The ones who don't fight back."
Her eyes held his.
"But when necessary… they can push me down and make me scream."
The man exhaled through his nose, amused.
He placed a hand beside her head against the wall , cornering her like a lover.
Clare's gaze lowered briefly.
His shirt.
One button undone.
Exposing a strip of chest.
"You're quite ripped," she commented lightly.
He laughed.
"If this is the end," he said, reaching for two glasses from a champagne tower nearby, "why don't we finish it with a toast?"
He handed her one.
Their glasses clinked.
His eyes never left her lips.
Clare lifted the glass.
Sipped.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Her vision blurred.
The music warped slightly.
The lights smeared.
The glass slipped from her fingers,but before it shattered,he caught it smoothly.
Steady hands.
Prepared.
He lowered the glass carefully to the floor.
Then he lifted her.
Effortlessly.
One arm beneath her knees.
The other behind her back.
Like something precious.
Like something claimed.
Clare's head fell against his shoulder.
Her breathing slowed.
Kal climbed the stairs again, the cigar resting between his fingers, smoke curling upward in lazy spirals.
He didn't look left.
Didn't look right.
Straight to the window beside room number 3.
He opened it gently.
Cool night air rushed against his face.
Below, the garden shimmered under dim golden lights.
But movement below caught his eye.
...
The man was climbing the stairs.
Clare rested in his arms, her head tilted against his shoulder, limp but beautiful in the low light.
Room Twenty.
The number glowed faintly beside the door.
He entered.
The door shut.
A wide, luxurious masterpiece , ivory silk sheets stretched tightly over a high, cushioned mattress. The headboard was tall and upholstered in deep velvet, stitched with subtle golden patterns. Soft ambient lights glowed from beneath the frame, casting a warm halo across the polished wooden floor.
It wasn't just a bed.
It was designed for indulgence.
The man laid Clare down carefully upon it.
She looked small against the vast softness.
He took out his phone.
"I caught her," he said quietly. "I can't believe a member of Nocturnal would be this easy to catch."
He paused.
Listening, but no reply came from other end.
Then smirked.
"Before handing her to the client… I'll enjoy her first."
He tossed the phone onto a nearby chair.
Stepped closer to the bed.
His hand brushed her lips, smearing the red across her cheek.
....
Kal's jaw tightened.
Leaning on the window, hidden in shadow, he whispered,
"Please, Clare… move. I found the target."
No response.
His watch remained silent.
Silence pressed in.
His heart began to pound.
"Fuck it," he muttered.
He inhaled deeply.
Activated PBV.
A faint shimmer ran across his skin , like light trapped inside his veins. His body felt lighter. Sharper. Alive in a way that was almost frightening.
He glanced behind him once.
No turning back.
He climbed out the window and placed his foot on the narrow stone extension outside.
There was a gap between his window and Room three's balcony.
A large one.
He measured it with his eyes.
"It's going to hurt," he murmured.
He pressed his fingers against the wall, attempting to wedge them into the surface.
He expected resistance.
Pain.
Instead,his fingers sank in.
Like pushing into wet clay.
The stone parted around them.
No pain.
No effort.
Kal froze.
Then let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
"Haa… that's amazing."
Carefully, slowly, he began moving sideways along the wall, fingers embedding and releasing with unnatural ease.
He reached the balcony.
Hopped down silently.
Empty.
The door slightly open.
Inside, a man and woman were entangled on the bed, faces clearly visible in the soft lighting.
Kal's instincts shifted.
Evidence.
Leverage.
He raised his watch and quietly recorded a short clip.
The man inside suddenly stiffened.
His eyes snapped toward the balcony.
"I saw someone!" he barked, jumping off the bed and rushing toward the door without hesitation.
The woman behind him frowned. "What happened?"
"I saw someone out there!"
He flung the balcony door open.
Empty.
Night air.
Silence.
Confusion crossed his face.
Behind him, the woman wrapped her arms around his chest from behind.
"Don't ruin the mood," she whispered softly.
Kal was laying flat in front of the window.
barely breathing.
The cigar still burned faintly between his fingers.
He exhaled slowly .
A smile crept across his face.
"I did it," he whispered to himself.
"Clare would be proud."
And then,the world tilted.
His vision blurred.
The floor vanished.
The night shattered into black.
He felt himself falling.
Not downward.
Not upward.
Just… falling.
Into an endless abyss.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs.
Every muscle tightened painfully.
"Help, Miss Clare!" he screamed.
Darkness swallowed the sound.
Then,two shapes emerged in the void.
A pair of lips.
A single eye.
Watching.
Amused.
"So," a voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere,
"You are a sheep in wolf's clothing."
The darkness pulsed.
Closer.
"Or perhaps," it whispered,
"A wolf pretending to be prey."
Kal tried to move.
He couldn't.
The eye widened.
Unblinking.
Studying him.
"Let's see," the voice said softly,
"What you truly are."
And the abyss began to close in.