Once the call disconnected, Ethan leaned back on his bed, letting out a tired sigh. The dimly lit room was a sanctuary of muted colors and minimalistic decor. Soft, ambient lighting from a sleek floor lamp cast gentle shadows on the walls, and a large, abstract painting hung above the headboard. A plush, gray rug covered the wooden floor, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise modern space.
As Ethan settled into the soft pillows, his eyes caught something unusual—a tiny, red dot dancing on the surface of the ceramic vase near his bed. The vase, a delicate piece of art with intricate blue and white patterns, stood on a sleek, black nightstand. Instinctively, his gaze sharpened, and his muscles tensed. He knew exactly what it was: a laser sight.
Without making any sudden movements, Ethan slowly edged closer to the vase, pretending to inspect it. Just as he anticipated, a sharp, whizzing sound cut through the silence. The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, a crack that echoed off the walls and sent a shockwave through the air. In the blink of an eye, the vase shattered into a thousand pieces, porcelain shards exploding outward like a fragile bomb. The bullet ricocheted off the fragments, embedding itself with a dull thud in the wall behind him.
Ethan's heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins. His quick reflexes had saved him—had he been even a fraction of a second slower, the bullet would have found its mark. He crouched low, staying close to the floor, and scanned the room for any other signs of danger. His eyes darted to the heavy curtains drawn over the large window. The bullet had been shot from there. The assassin must be in another building. Even if he stood up and followed him, he would mix in the darkness and would not be caught easily.
After thinking for a moment, Ethan decided it was time to leave the house. Moving swiftly yet cautiously, he made his way down the staircase. The familiar click of his shoes against the polished wood echoed in the quiet building. When he reached the lobby, he noticed the receptionist's desk was empty, an unusual sight.
His eyes scanned the hallway, noting several of the flats were now vacant, their doors slightly ajar and lights turned off. The usually bustling building seemed eerily deserted. More importantly, the men who typically stood guard near the entrance were conspicuously absent. A chill ran down Ethan's spine as the implications of this new reality sank in.
He remembered the day he first noticed those men—silent, stoic, always present but never intrusive. At first, he had assumed they were just part of the building's security detail, perhaps overzealous or overly diligent. But now, with the threat of the earlier attack still fresh in his mind, he understood their true purpose.
Ethan's thoughts turned to his father, a powerful man with many enemies. It became clear that those men were his father's doing, a silent protective detail ensuring Ethan's safety from the shadows. He had never fully grasped the extent of his father's influence or the lengths to which he would go to protect his son.
Then there was Nadia, whose mysterious aura always intrigued him. She, too, had sent some of those men. This revelation was both comforting and unsettling. It meant Nadia had a vested interest in his well-being, but it also meant she was aware of dangers he hadn't even considered.
As these realizations washed over him, Ethan's expression hardened. There was a mix of gratitude and frustration in his eyes—gratitude for the protection he unknowingly had, and frustration at being kept in the dark. His jaw clenched as he considered the implications. The safety net that had always been there, unseen and unappreciated, was now gone, leaving him exposed.
He felt a surge of determination. He could no longer afford to be complacent. With the layers of security stripped away, Ethan knew he had to rely on his own instincts and abilities. He had to be vigilant, aware, and ready for anything that might come his way. As he stepped out into the night, the cool air filled his lungs, and he steeled himself for what he was going to do.
Ethan returned to the villa under the cover of darkness, his mind sharp and focused. The grand structure loomed ahead, its elegant facade bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Instead of taking the main door, which would be too obvious and potentially watched, he moved silently around the perimeter, sticking to the shadows.
He approached a side window, gently testing it to find it unlocked, a small but critical oversight in the villa's security. Slipping inside, he found himself in a dimly lit corridor. The faint scent of polished wood and fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the distant murmur of night insects from the garden. He moved with practiced stealth, his footsteps barely a whisper against the plush carpets.
Navigating through the back hallways, Ethan made his way to the servants' entrance, a discreet door tucked away behind the kitchen. He opened it quietly, slipping through without making a sound. The kitchen was dark and still, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows.
With the precision of a trained operative, he climbed the servant stairs, avoiding the main hallways where he might encounter someone. He reached Aldrin's room, the door slightly ajar, indicating that someone had been there recently. Ethan took a deep breath, steadying himself before slipping through the door and stepping onto the balcony.
The balcony was a serene spot, overlooking the vast gardens of the villa. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers. Ethan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the area below for any signs of movement. He felt a mix of tension and anticipation, aware that his presence here was both a risk and a necessity.
As he waited in the shadows, his thoughts raced. Ardrin, with his intricate web of connections and resources, would his father believe him if he would stand against Ardrin already?