Valarie’s POV

( Continuation of previous chapter)

She forced a slow, sultry smile as she leaned closer to Viktor, letting her fingers trail over his arm. “Mmm, you’re bold,” she purred. “I like that.”

Viktor smirked, completely unaware of the trap closing in around him. “Bold?” he echoed, his voice thick with arrogance. “Sweetheart, I know what I want. And right now… I want you.”

Valarie barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

She hated men like him—smug, entitled, thinking they could buy or charm their way into a woman’s bed. If only he knew he was already a dead man walking.

Her phone vibrated discreetly in her purse, the signal she’d been waiting for.

It’s done.

Her team was in position. Backup was watching from a distance, waiting for her signal. Everything was set.

Now, she just had to play her part.

She let Viktor guide her into the black car waiting for them outside the club, his hand settled low on her back—too low for her liking. But she bit her tongue, giggling as she leaned into him, letting him think he had her exactly where he wanted.

The drive to his penthouse was suffocating. He flirted the entire way, his voice dripping with smugness, his hand resting possessively on her thigh.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve seen in a long time,” he murmured, his fingers grazing the hem of her dress. “And believe me, I’ve had plenty.”

Fucking disgusting.

But Valarie smiled sweetly, pretending to be flattered. “Oh?” she cooed, tilting her head. “Then what makes me so special?”

Viktor chuckled darkly. “You’re not just sexy, baby. You’re fierce. I can see it in your eyes. That’s the kind of woman I like.”

If only he knew how right he was.

The moment they reached his penthouse, he wasted no time.

As soon as the door shut behind them, his hands were on her. He kissed her hard, his grip firm as he pressed her back against the wall. His lips moved down to her neck, his hands roaming over her body like he already owned her.

Valarie let out a breathy laugh, pretending to melt into it, when in reality, her fingers twitched for her blade.

Viktor growled against her skin. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured. “Can’t wait to see what you look like underneath this dress.”

He grabbed her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly, carrying her toward the massive king-sized bed.

Valarie let him.

Because she was almost there.

He tossed her onto the mattress, hovering over her, his eyes dark with lust.

And just when he leaned in to kiss her again—

She gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Wait,” she whispered breathlessly.

Viktor frowned. “What?”

She bit her lip, glancing away shyly. “I just… I need to take off my makeup first. I hate the feeling of it when I sleep with someone.”

Viktor groaned, frustrated, but smirked. “Fine. But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

Valarie giggled, sitting up and smoothing her dress. “Of course not.”

With that, she slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Her entire demeanor shifted the second she was alone.

Her flirty smile vanished. Her eyes hardened, cold and calculating.

She reached into her purse, pulling out the small earpiece and pressing it into her ear.

“I’m in.”

Her voice was a whisper.

Static crackled, then a voice responded, “Copy that. Waiting for your signal.”

Valarie glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection staring back at her. The seductive, alluring woman Viktor saw was nothing but a mask.

And that mask was about to shatter.

******* Sebastian’s POV

The moment Viktor dragged his Valarie into that car, Sebastian saw red.

He had followed them without a sound, his grip on the knife in his pocket tightening with every disgusting touch Viktor dared to lay on her. Every second, his mind spiraled further, his obsessive rage growing like a beast with one single thought:

He touched her. He touched Valarie.

That filthy bastard.

Sebastian’s heartbeat was steady, but his hands itched with the need to tear.

To ruin.

To make that suffer.

When they reached the penthouse, Sebastian was already inside. He had slipped in unnoticed, a ghost in the shadows. He was always watching. Always waiting.

And when he saw it—when he saw Viktor press his lips to Valarie’s skin, when he saw the way that bastard grabbed her, pinned her against the wall—

Something inside him snapped.

There was no thought. No hesitation.

Only rage.

And death.

Viktor had no idea that his fate was already sealed.

Sebastian moved swiftly, his steps silent, his presence a whisper of death as he stalked toward the man who thought he could take what belonged to him.

The fool.

The absolute fucking fool.

When Valarie excused herself, slipping into the bathroom, Viktor exhaled, rubbing his hands together, thinking he was about to enjoy himself.

But before he could turn, before he could even breathe—

Sebastian’s blade was in his throat.

The man didn’t even get to scream.

Sebastian twisted the knife, reveling in the wet, gurgling noise Viktor made as blood gushed down his chest, soaking his expensive shirt.

The bastard choked, eyes wide, hands clawing uselessly at Sebastian’s wrist.

Sebastian watched, expressionless.

No. Not enough.

His grip tightened. He yanked the blade free in one sharp motion, only to drive it into Viktor’s gut this time, twisting again, slow and deliberate, watching with dark satisfaction as the life drained from the man’s eyes.

“Did you think,” Sebastian murmured, his voice dangerously soft, “that you could touch her? Put your filthy hands on my girl and walk away?”

Viktor made a weak, wet noise, his lips trembling as more blood spilled down his chin.

Sebastian grinned.

And then he drove the knife again. And again. And again.

Viktor twitched. He didn’t stop.

Slash. His face.

Stab. His chest.

Rip. His throat.

The bastard’s body convulsed violently before slumping forward, blood pooling beneath him, staining the pristine white carpet.

Sebastian breathed in.

The scent of blood. The warmth of it dripping down his fingers.

Perfect.

His Valarie’s name was still clinging to Viktor’s dead lips.

Sebastian crouched down, grabbed the man’s lifeless face, and wiped his bloody knife on Viktor’s cheek.

A final act of dominance.

He belonged to her.

No one else could touch her. No one else could have her.

And if they tried?

He would carve their hearts out.

****** Valarie’s POV

The scent of blood was the first thing that hit her.

Thick. Metallic. Overwhelming.

Valarie stepped out of the bathroom, her mind still sharp, still in control. But the moment her eyes landed on the scene before her—

Her breath caught.

Viktor was dead. In mere 5 minutes, she was gone.

No, not just dead. He was butchered.

His body slumped in a pool of his own blood, his face barely recognizable, carved up like a grotesque piece of art. Deep slashes. Gaping wounds. His throat was nothing but a mangled, gory mess.

It wasn’t a clean kill. This was personal.

Valarie’s stomach tightened, and not from fear.

She had seen death before—she had caused death before. She wasn’t some weak, naïve woman who trembled at the sight of a body.

But this.

This was a message.

Her gaze flickered across the room, sharp, searching. That’s when she saw it—

The open door. A shadow. A presence that had already vanished into the night.

And then… the words.

Scrawled across the wall, written in fresh blood, a sentence that made her pulse hammer in her throat.

“You’re looking too sexy tonight, my Val. No one else deserves to see this much skin except me. Or else this would happen.”

Her breath hitched.

No.

She knew who had done this.

She knew who had watched her.

Or was it?

A slow chill crept down her spine as her fingers brushed against the short hem of her dress.

He had seen everything.

He had watched as she played her role, as she seduced Viktor.

And he had snapped.

Completely.

Valarie swallowed, forcing herself to breathe. Focus.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone.

The mission was over. There was no more Viktor.

She dialed her colleague, her voice steady.

“The job is done.”