Alyssa’s POV
The grand ballroom was a masterpiece of wealth and power-crystal chandeliers dripped from the high ceilings, and the air was thick with the scent of cigars and expensive whiskey. Every council member in attendance was draped in elegance, their tailored suits and designer gowns disguising the filth of the criminal empire they ruled.
I stood near the center, a glass of champagne in hand, my mask of composure flawless. Tonight was the night. Tonight, I would fracture the foundation of this corrupt council from within.
Beside me, Xavier leaned in, his voice low. “You sure about this?”
I met his gaze, the amber glow of the chandeliers casting shadows across his sharp features. “Positive,” I murmured. “They think they own me. They think I’ll fall in line.” I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the bubbles burn down my throat before setting the glass aside. “They’re about to learn otherwise.”
From across the room, Isabella caught my eye, the silent signal that everything was in place. I took a measured breath, then stepped forward, lifting my glass as if preparing for a toast.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I called, my voice ringing through the space. The conversations hushed, heads turned. I let the silence stretch just long enough to make them uncomfortable before I smiled. “It’s such an honor to be among the most powerful figures in our world tonight. But power, as we all know, is fragile.” I turned slightly, letting my gaze land on Nicolai Moretti, a council member whose influence stretched across Europe. “Isn’t that right, Nicolai?”
He stiffened. “I’m not sure what you mean, Alyssa.”
I tilted my head. “Oh, but I think you do.” I reached into my clutch and retrieved a small envelope, holding it up between two fingers. “See, I’ve always believed in transparency. And it turns out, someone within this very council has been playing both sides. Selling secrets. Leaking information to authorities.”
A murmur rippled through the room. Nicolai’s face drained of color. “You’re bluffing,” he sneered.
I arched a brow. “Am I?” With slow, deliberate movements, I pulled a folded document from the envelope and handed it to Xavier, who began reading aloud.
“Swiss bank accounts. Wire transfers. Payments linked to an FBI informant.” Xavier’s voice was ice. He lifted his gaze, locking onto Nicolai. “You’ve been feeding information to the feds, haven’t you?”
Nicolai’s hands curled into fists. “This is outrageous!”
I smirked. “Oh, but it gets better.” I turned, my gaze landing on Anya Petrov, a woman with ice-blue eyes and a reputation for being untouchable. “Anya, darling, I know you’ve worked hard to maintain your position, but it seems someone in this room has evidence linking you to the very arms dealers you’ve spent years condemning.”
Anya’s expression didn’t flicker, but the tightening of her jaw was all the confirmation I needed.
I let the weight of my words settle before delivering the final blow. “And let’s not forget our esteemed chairman, Victor Renzo.” I turned toward the elderly man seated at the head of the room. “Victor, how long have you been funneling council funds into your own private empire?” I lifted another document. “Because these transactions paint a very interesting picture.”
The silence was deafening.
Then, all at once, the room erupted.
Accusations flew. Nicolai turned on Anya. Anya turned on Victor. Voices rose, threats laced with venom. I stepped back, watching as alliances shattered like glass.
Xavier exhaled, low and impressed. “You just set fire to an empire.”
I glanced up at him. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”
Just as I turned to deliver the final strike, the first shot rang out.
Everything stopped.
For a second, my brain struggled to catch up. The room was filled with chaos, but all I could focus on was the figure crumpling beside me.
Xavier.
Blood bloomed across his chest, stark against the crisp black of his suit.
My breath caught. No.
Another shot fired, and I lunged, pushing him down behind a nearby table as glass shattered around us.
“Xavier!” My hands pressed against the wound, hot and slick beneath my fingers. “Stay with me-just stay with me.”
His eyes fluttered, his breath shaky. “Alyssa…”
I whipped my head up, scanning the room. Chaos reigned. People were ducking for cover, scrambling to escape. Isabella had drawn her gun, eyes sharp as she searched for the shooter.
Then I saw him.
Perched on the balcony above, the assassin blended into the shadows, his rifle still trained in our direction.
Rage ignited in my chest.
I grabbed my own gun from my thigh holster, steadying my aim as I locked onto the bastard’s position. He hesitated-just a fraction of a second-but it was enough.
I fired.
The bullet struck home, and he staggered back, his weapon slipping from his grasp as he tumbled over the railing.
Silence fell.
I turned back to Xavier, my hands trembling as I pressed harder against his wound. “Hold on,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “You don’t get to die on me.”
His grip on my wrist was weak, but his eyes found mine. “You need… to finish this.”
A sob clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it down. “I can’t do this without you.”
His lips parted, as if he had more to say, but his strength gave out.
The doors burst open, Isabella rushing to my side. “We have to get him out of here.”
I nodded, my mind shifting into survival mode. “Now.”
As we carried Xavier out, the council behind us still crumbling from the weight of its own secrets, one thing became terrifyingly clear: