Page 108 of Sardonic Burn

My throat is dry, and this is much bigger than I thought. Lucas was unable to find out who would attend, and I didn’t force him to dig deeper. I’m lucky enough that he managed to redirect Giselle’s invitation to me without getting caught. I couldn’t risk the operation failing because my curiosity got the better of me.

A tall, muscular, grumpy man shows me to my seat. It’s in the first row, at the far end. Hudson doesn’t have a seat, and he plops down on his knees, keeping his head on my crossed legs. That’s what we agreed on. He needs to look the part.

He hugs my legs to make himself look even more submissive and pathetic, and it helps immensely. The security at the front managed to find two of my guns and none of his. We got lucky, and I can’t thank the heavens enough.

People are whispering, murmuring, and clutching their numbers in their hands. Since they’re all masked, I can’t recognize anyone here. Undoubtedly, they’re all influential and wealthy figures in one or more ways. Money can buy a lot of things, and anonymity is one of them.

There are a couple of waiters going around offering alcohol. The selection isn’t too wide, but the champagne, whiskey and wine they’re offering are expensive. The drinks themselves cost more than a couple grand in total.

I look down at Hudson, only to see him darting his eyes around the room. The lights are dimmed, and it’s a great opportunity to at least sneak a few glances around.

There’s a big, red curtain where the cage and the podium begin. There are some muffled cries that completely disappear once the music starts playing. Aside from the entrance, there are two pairs of doors. One that leads up the stairs, and one that leads to the basement.

Both of which I’ll have to check out, one way or the other.

“Noelle, can you hear me?” Lucas speaks on the other side of the earpiece. “If you can hear me, clear your throat twice.”

I do as he says, and a sigh of relief slips from him.

“I’m having issues accessing security cameras inside. Whoever is in charge, he’s good, and he made sure that it’s next to impossible to get in. Not that I can’t do it, I’ll just need more time.”

I clear my throat once more, signaling that I understand.

“I found the old building layout,” he adds. “The door on the right wall leads to the basement. Whatever you do, do not go downstairs. It’s a horror movie waiting to happen. You won’t be able to get out.”

I close my eyes.

Lucas is right.

But the basement door is right next to the curtains, and I’m certain that the victims are being kept in the basement. Someone will have to go downstairs and help them, and it can’t be me.

I’m used to doing everything on my own. It’s easier, it’s quicker, and I don’t have to depend on anyone to help me. I’m forced to get myself out of impossible situations and learn from the experiences it brings.

However, now that too many lives are at stake, I can’t do that.

I need to put my trust in the team of elite assassins and snipers the two families have trained for years. I need to trust that they will do their job well. Not a single person on the team has ever failed, and they will not start tonight.

My heartrate starts going up, my hands start swelling in the leather gloves, and my forehead starts sweating. It leaves too much discomfort in my veins. A sharp, probing pain continuously stabs the pit of my stomach, and I have to resist the urge to vomit.

The hunch—the terrible gut feeling—doesn’t leave even after the majority of the people are sitting down, prepared to spend their money.

It’s like a knife is twisting and turning in my gut, slashing through my organs. The pain doesn’t intensify, but it doesn’t subside, either. It’s like a calm ocean with a few big waves coming and going.

Hudson grabs my hand and squeezes it, and it gives me a little reassurance.

By the time everyone is seated, I manage to collect myself. A couple of deep breaths and hard belief in my skills proves to be enough to at least make my instincts sharper than normal. My ears perk at the couple sitting next to me as they discuss their recent merchandise.

Hudson stiffens at their words, but I squeeze his hand. We’re both reassuring each other and trying our best to keep the other in check. Soon, this will become far worse than it is now.

Chills spread down my body, and I feel someone staring at me. My face cannot be seen because of the dark veil, so I nonchalantly tilt my head upward. From the second floor a man is staring right at me.

He has his face covered in nothing but a simple, black mask. His suit is quite impressive, and he’s holding a glass of champagne in his hand. He tilts his head to the side and even from this distance, I can see the sadistic smirk on his face.

He’s only watching me. Not anyone else here. He’s not even glancing at the man at my feet—just me. And it’s terrifying. It’s as if he knows something about me. Or rather, Madam Giselle.

And I don’t know which one is scarier.

He’s definitely too important to sit with the rest of us, so I immediately connect the dots. That man is The Silencer. The man who I’ve been searching for isrightthere, and I can’t do anything about it.

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