The name came at dawn.
Albert stood beside the desk, tablet in hand, eyes sharp and steady.
"I traced the call," he said. "The voice, the relays… it wasn't perfect. I found him."
Raina didn't move from the window. Arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Name?" she asked calmly.
Albert tapped the screen. A face appeared: unremarkable at first glance. Man in his forties, generic features, but sharp eyes that hinted at a predator's precision.
"Loren Vex," Albert said. "Independent contractor. Takes orders. Never asks questions. Leaves no trace—until tonight."
Raina studied the image. No emotion betrayed her. "Location?"
Albert swiped to the next page. A map popped up, pins marking cities, towns, and a small estate on the outskirts of the city.
"His current residence," Albert said. "Last confirmed job eight months ago. Signature matches every prior target."
Raina leaned closer to the screen. "History?"
Albert nodded, fingers flicking across the tablet. "Seven confirmed… suspected more. Women and men, always indirect. His specialty is intimidation, manipulation, silent terror. He doesn't kill unnecessarily, but he will if the order changes."
Raina's lips pressed into a thin line. Slowly, she tapped through the logs, his movements, payments, patterns. Each file a piece of a life built on fear.
"He thinks himself untouchable," she murmured. "Arrogant. Careless."
Albert's eyes flicked to hers. "And Chloe?"
"She ordered him," Raina said evenly. "That makes her responsible—but he pulled the trigger. So he comes first."
She straightened, folding her hands. Her gaze burned like winter steel.
Albert inclined his head. "And next steps, Miss Raina?"
She smiled faintly. Not warm. Not kind. Calculated. Cold.
"Albert," she said, voice low and deliberate, "he took a job… and he failed. Now he's on my map. I want him traced, watched, analyzed. Every route. Every contact. Everything he's ever touched."
Albert bowed. "It will be done."
Raina turned back to the screen, the killer's name and face glowing in the soft light of the study.
She whispered to the empty room:
"He made a mistake. One call. One order. One slip. That's all it takes."
Her eyes gleamed. Sharp. Relentless.
"Let the game begin."