Page 26 of Daddies' Little Assassin

Henry's hand tightened around mine, his jaw clenched. "I don't like it, but if you want to do this, we'll do it with you."

I nodded slowly, my heart pounding. "Yeah, I think we should do this."

Whatever this was, whoever this Chester was... it was going to be dangerous.

But this time? This time I wouldn't be facing it alone.

Chapter seventeen

The House

The sleek black card felt cold between my fingers, and it hummed with the usual magic. My thumb hovered over its sharp edge, my heart racing with a picture of anticipation and dread. I knew what I had to do. It worked last time. I had to give my blood for knowledge. I pricked my finger and let a single drop bead, then fall, on the embossed letters spelling 'Chester'.

The moment my blood hit the card, magic filled the air around me, and my knees wobbled. Suddenly, every dark secret about Chester flooded my mind—a vile, rotting mass of information about his misdeeds. Images flashed like lightning: women sobbing in cages, bruised bodies, terrorized eyes. Chester wasn't just some underworld figure—he was a trafficker, a predator who sold supernatural beings to the highest bidder. And he used to sell to Sapphire, the succubus my Daddies, and I took out together.

I gasped, staggering back as the visions settled. My head throbbed, but the weight of the knowledge was far worse than the pain.

"Thora?" Karel's voice was steady but edged with concern. He caught me just before I could slump to the floor, cradling me against his chest. I didn't react this badly to the first hit, and my mind idly wondered what it was about Chester that was having this effect on me.

Lang and Henry loomed over me, worry etched in their features.

"What did you see?" Lang asked, his sharp gaze flicking over me.

I took a shaky breath and shared everything—the cages, the supernatural victims, and Chester's dealings with Sapphire. As I spoke, Henry's fists clenched, his knuckles going white. Karel's usually calm expression darkened, his jaw tightening with every word I uttered. Lang's eyes were hard and cold, filled with a kind of fury I'd never seen in him before.

"He's not just some thug," I whispered. "He's evil. And if we don't stop him, he'll just keep doing this... forever."

Henry exhaled through his nose, the sound like a bull ready to charge. "We won't let him live another day, darling girl."

Karel's hand traced lazy circles on my back. "Tell us where we need to go."

I closed my eyes and accessed the last bit of information I took in. Chester's favourite haunt, a grimy nightclub nestled in the city's shadows, known asThe Ninth Circle. He owned it, used it as a front for his business, and felt safe there.

"The Ninth Circle," I whispered. "That's where we'll find him."

The thudding bass of the club's music vibrated through the alley walls. Neon lights flickered over graffiti-tagged bricks, casting sharp shadows across the narrow streets. Chester's goons were stationed at the entrance—beefy shifters, who looked too bored to notice the wolves already circling them.

Lang, Karel, and Henry spread out, moving like shadows in the night. Lang handled the surveillance, his sharp eyes tracking every guard's movement. Karel and Henry watched the entry points, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of trouble. They were a well-oiled machine—predators who could dismantle Chester's operation without breaking a sweat.

And me? I was the assassin the Femme Fatale Freakshow had hired. So I'd do my damn job.

"I'll slip inside and take care of it," I told them, pulling my hood over my head.

Henry's large hand closed around my wrist, his expression dark. "We do this together, Little darling."

"I'll be careful," I promised. "You just... keep a lookout."

They didn't look happy about it, but they could feel my emotions and knew arguing was pointless. I needed to do this. Alone.

I slipped into the club through a side door, a narrow back entrance Chester thought no one knew about. The music was deafening, and the air inside reeked of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke. Bodies swayed under strobe lights, lost in the music. I moved quickly, weaving between dancers, my pulse pounding in time with the beat.

So far, so good.

I spotted Chester in a corner booth, flanked by two men. He looked like a king on his throne, sipping whiskey, surrounded by a dark energy that clung to him like a second skin. His greasy hair and sly grin made my stomach turn.

This was my moment. I just had to get close enough to strike.

I reached into my jacket, fingers brushing the cold steel of my hidden blade. But the second I took another step forward, disaster struck.

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