Page 124 of Nocturne

Kelly nods, her gaze steady. “Yes, sir. And they didn’t just kill—they made a statement. This wasn’t a rushed attack. Every choice of weapon, every blow, it’s calculated. They even rigged the cameras before three days, and the matter was overlooked, which was then taken advantage of.”

I say nothing, my mind running through the implications. A lone operator capable of this? It’s both a problem and a curiosity.

Iblis enters. He surveys the scene with a practised eye, his expression giving nothing away as he stops beside me.

“Any leads?” he asks, his tone clipped.

Kelly shakes her head. “None yet. If the killer left anything behind, we haven’t found it. The cleanup was too thorough. Whoever did this wanted to ensure no trail could be followed.”

Iblis exhales, low and sharp. “Efficient.”

“Dangerous,” I correct, my gaze fixed on the rod being placed into an evidence bag.

The room feels colder as Iblis glances at me, his eyes reflecting the same thought that lingers in my mind. This wasn’t just murder. This was a message. And I have every intention of delivering a reply.

“Ma’am?”

Kelly turns to one of her associates as he holds what seems to be a piece of paper. Iblis snatches it before the woman, holding it out to me.

Every rat who dared side with you scum will share this fate. Besall is ours—no filth defies the Crescenzos.

“How original,” I mutter, handing it back to Iblis.

The woman doesn’t ask for it. Good. She’s smart enough to know when to shut up. I approach the office desk where Trevor’s body lies. His eyes are wide open, his hands resting on the armrest. A clean slice on his neck has already drenched the front of his body in blood.

I don’t see any signs of struggle in him. His suit is immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, and the cigar still dangles from his mouth. Kelly confirms my thoughts.

“No signs of struggle or fight,” she says.

Trevor likely accepted his fate after witnessing the killer single-handedly dispatch his men. Before my men could get here, it was already over. As much as I hate to admit it, this killer was efficient.

“Who could have the guts to take the hit on him?” Iblis muses aloud.

It’s not because Trevor had tight-knit security or was untouchable. He was like any businessman. What separated him was my protection. People knew that messing with him meant answering me. I valued loyalty, and I rewarded it properly.

“The rouges,” I say, turning away from Trevor’s body.

It takes all of two seconds for my men to digest the information before they get to work. Iblis walks to Kelly to talk to herwhile Nico orders her men to clear out. Anything concerning the rouges falls under The Dark Accord, and we deal with things on our own. We don’t want uniforms sullying the process. Quite frankly, they’re out of their league here.

The team clears out quickly while my men bag the bodies for burial. I lean on Trevor’s desk, trying to rein in my temper that wants to wreak chaos. I’m tempted to turn the city upside down, kill every fucking bounty hunter, and track every fuck on the dark web advertising these kills.

“How do we know it’s those rouge bastards?” Nico growls, slamming the door shut.

“They’re the only ones with the need for money, the skills, and the guts to go against us,” I explain, “any assassin in the area would steer clear of men under our protection.”

“We’ve had occasions where our men were killed,” Nico counters.

“The bounty on their heads was high. Crescenzos can’t offer that much, given their dwindling funds. These rouges are desperate, even if it’s for smaller payouts than they’re used to.” Iblis grits out.

“Cocky fuckers,” Nico snarls.

A ring from my phone draws my attention. I frown when I see Vessar’s name on the ID.

“Yes?”

“Where is my shipment, Devlin?”

Charon’s voice is sharp, cutting through the line with an edge I haven’t heard in a while. He’s angry, and it’s not a surprise—losing the shipment doesn’t make us weak, but it’s still an unnecessary complication we don’t need right now.

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