THE BILLIONAIRE'S ASSASSIN

[MIDNIGHT; MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY] “Please, I beg you don't kill me, please,” Mr Graham begged while on his knees, his body trembling rigidly as the cold barrel pressed against his temple. “I warned you, didn't I? I shouldn't be here, but you crossed the line, Graham,” Nyx muttered coldly. “Please, I'm sorry. Spare my life for the sake of my kids. I'll do anything you ask me now, I promise,” he cried, begging desperately. She scoffed, her laughter dripping with disdain. “Really? You'll do anything, Mr Graham. Do you even know who or what I am?” Graham shook his head vigorously, he looked up slowly, then his eyes met hers. The figure that stood before him was imposing and cold. She wore a mask concealing her identity, but her eyes told a different story; they held no single trace of emotion. He had met her once. She had only threatened him but now here he was kneeling before her with a gun aimed at his forehead. “Use your words, Graham,” she snarled. . “N– no, I don't know who you are,” he stuttered. She crouched down to his level, her slender fingers grabbing his jaw tightly. “Would you like to know who or what I am, Graham?” she muttered darkly, her voice dripping with a menacing venom. Graham nodded once again, terror evident in his eyes. “Words Graham,” she snapped. “Y– yes, I — I want to know who you are,” he stammered, his eyes still locked in hers. “Fine then. I am Nyx, your worst nightmare, and tonight, Graham, — you’ll die by my hands,” she drawled, her lips curving into a cruel smile. “No, please, no. I have kids to take care of please,” he pleaded with trembling lips, hot tears streaming down his face. She stood up straight, staring at him with a cold glare, “You have kids, I warned you to back off Graham. I’ve never let anyone off with a warning, but I did that for you; only because of your kids.” “Please Nyx, forgive me,” his voice cracked, his breath hitching between broken sobs. “You took the lives of innocent children and now, here you are pleading for the sake of your children. You deserve a gruesome death, Graham, and I'm sure your kids will be better off without you.” Her tone came out sharp and cold. Graham quivered. He sobbed uncontrollably, then he started hitting himself hard across the cheek. “I’m sorry,” smack! “Please forgive me,” smack! “Please have mercy.” She scoffed: “It's too late for all this drama, Graham. Before I kill you, tell me who else is involved in this and where the rest of the kids are,” she said, her voice trembling with contained rage. “The Lawson's are also involved and the kids, in a few minutes' time, they'll be moved,” he mumbled slowly. She turned, then tapped her earpiece, her voice calm. “Glitch, they'll be moved in a few minutes. Get there before any s**t goes wrong. I'll be there with you in a flash.” She turned sharply, her attention solely on him, ''Now, here comes the fun part,'' she sneered with a psychopathic grin “Any last words, Graham?” her voice came out cold, her suppressed pistol aimed at his temple. “No, never, I can’t go down like this,” he screamed and shot to his feet, charging toward her, fury twisting his face. Nyx dodged his attacks effortlessly, then she kicked his knee, making him fall to the ground. “Guess men will always be men,” she muttered coldly, then within a blink of an eye she squeezed the trigger until the magazine clicked empty. Each shot was silent, precise and without mercy. She stared at the lifeless Graham, her expression held no trace of pity. She had witnessed men tremble at her feet begging with pitiful tunes, but none of them moved her. Mercy wasn’t in the line of her work. She turned to leave, however, stopped on her tracks when she heard a footstep. She stood in the shadows as it was dark, watching carefully to see who it was, then a little boy stepped in. “Daddy, daddy, wake up. Why are you on the floor?” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his cheeks, shaking Graham in an attempt to wake him up. Nyx walked up to him and squatted down to his level. She ruffled his hair. "You're better off without him, kiddo,” she mumbled, then she walked towards the window and jumped out. ***** “So… how was it?" Blade asked as Nyx entered the van. “None of your business, Blade, drive,” Nyx muttered calmly. “Glitch got all the kids, they're at the hospital now. She said they were all girls and some of them were victims of r**e,” Blade muttered, his eyes focused on the road. She looked out the window, fist clenched. “Graham deserved to die a painfully excruciating kinda death. Nevertheless, we have new targets now — the Lawson's. “Francis said, Haven is going to take care of them.” “So what now?” she asked, facing him. “Francis wants us at the syndicate, so that's where we’re heading.” “Cool,” she mumbled, returning her gaze out the window. MIDNIGHT SYNDICATE Their van halted some miles away from the syndicate. Blade turned his gaze, lingering on her intently. “You know, you can take the mask now, Isabelle,” he muttered, his eyes locked in hers. She stared at him with a raised brow. “I think I'm more attracted to Isabelle than Nyx,” he said softly, trying to take off her mask. “Don't,” she said, turning sharply. A wistful smile curved his lips, and slowly he withdrew his hand. A moment later, he stepped out of the van. Isabelle sighed, her gaze lingered silently on his retreating figure. Blade was the only one who cared for her in this underworld, but this was business, and she didn't want to get things complicated with him. Blade was right, but she liked keeping her two lives distinct — Isabelle was meant to fool the outside world whereas Nyx was meant for the underworld. She took off her mask, staring at it silently; her mask was smooth and silent, black as midnight. It had no marks, no name, just the face of death itself and that was why she goes by the name Nyx. Fate had brought her here and she wasn't going to mess things up. She came down from the van, putting on a face mask as she walked towards the midnight club which was some blocks away. It was midnight, and she was dressed all back so it was safe for her to walk freely. ***** She stared at the midnight club in front of her, it was glamorous on the surface but deadly underneath. This place was what she considered home — her wealth, her power, and everything about who she is begun here. This club was her whole life; every glass of wine poured there hid a secret deal, every smile masked a kill order. The syndicate didn't need shadows to hide; it was out in the open in plain sight. The outside world may see them as monsters, but she was an assassin who loved her job. She stepped inside without a glance at the chaos, music thundered; perfume and liquor clung to the air. People brushed past her, lost in their oblivion, but she moved through them like smoke, untouched, unseen. At the far end of the club, a mirrored elevator waited. She stepped in, pressed the top-floor button, and stared silently with no expression on her face till the door slid shut. —---- She got out of the elevator, then headed towards a door. She opened it and stepped in. “What took you so long?” Blade asked. “Nothing,” she said simply. She turned facing the man in front of her. He held a cigarette between his fingers, dragging it slowly. “What's the meeting about Francis?” she pried flatly. She sat down beside Blade, but her gaze was fixed on Glitch who was seated opposite her. Francis was the only one who called all the shots in the syndicate. He might look mid, but he's deadlier than he seems. “I called you all here because I have an announcement to make,” he trailed, his gaze traveling between the three of them. “Firstly, Nyx, Blade, you both did an excellent job. The same goes for you, Glitch. Compensation for the Graham contract has been transferred to your accounts as agreed by the syndicate.” “Secondly, there's a pending contract opportunity, but only one of you can snag this deal,” he added, with a sly smile on his lips. “What's the contract about?” Glitch asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Glad you asked Glitch; this contract is worth billions. Apparently someone wants Alexander Cross annihilated in six months.” Isabelle's eyes went wide, her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't initially interested in this, but hearing the name Alexander Cross woke something buried in her — a hunger that never slept. “Woah, that's huge,” Blade muttered. “Taking Alexander down won’t be easy. I mean the guy doesn't seem ordinary, I'm sure there's something more to him than meets the eye,” Glitch said flatly. “That's right Glitch, you're absolutely right and that is why we need the best among the three of you. So… who's it going to be?” Francis questioned, his voice dripping with something dangerous. Isabelle stared at him for a while, then spoke. "I'll do it." Glitch scoffed, “Are you trying to insinuate that you're better than we?” “No, I'm saying I'm the best candidate for this job,” Isabelle retorted. Francis looked over to Blade, who was awfully quiet. “What about you, Blade?” he pried with a raised brow. “Nah, I ain’t interested, it's too risky. A lot of assassins have gone after that man, and they lose their lives in the process. It's a red flag for me,” he said simply. “So, Nyx, Glitch, which one of you is willing for the task?” Francis asked with a devious look on his face. “I'll do it,” they both said in unison, then they glared at each other. Isabelle stared at Glitch. She had always been torn in her flesh and always trying to compete with her, but this time was different. This was a golden opportunity she couldn't afford to miss. “Ladies, I'm sure there are other ways to solve this, right?” Francis muttered, his voice laced with something dangerous which Isabelle understood instantly. Before Glitch could make a move, Isabelle palmed the seam of her coat, she felt the cool metal, and instantly she slid it free. Without a second thought, she fired. The bullet met Glitch between breath and heartbeat; and suddenly the world tilted.