Evelyn's heart pounded in her chest, the sound of gunfire echoing through the room like thunder. She crouched behind the thick, wooden table, her breath coming in short, controlled gasps as she swiftly loaded bullets into her silver Glock. The weight of the gun in her hand was reassuring—a cold, lethal comfort amid chaos.
Evelyn couldn't quite grasp how her life had spiraled into this chaos. One moment, she was an honorary member of the Special Forces, a paragon of law and justice, dedicated to fighting against the very criminals she now found herself entangled with. And now, here she was—a mobster's wife, hiding behind a shattered table, her long, dark blonde hair tightly secured in a bun, a stark contrast to the woman she used to be.
How did it come to this? The question gnawed at her as she huddled behind the thick wooden table, the weight of the silver Glock heavy in her hands. This was not the life she had envisioned, not the path she had ever imagined walking. She had sworn to uphold the law, to protect the innocent, and to bring criminals to justice. But now she was fighting alongside those very criminals, just because the Emperor of the Underworld was none other than her husband.
Her heart ached as she thought of her former comrades, the brothers and sisters in arms she had left behind. She knew she had betrayed their trust and turned her back on everything they had fought for together.
For the sake of God, she was supposed to be on the side of law and justice. The irony was almost unbearable. She had been one of the best, a leader and a mentor to others, and now she was on the wrong side of the law, living a life of deception and danger.
Her thoughts drifted to her former mentor, the person who had shaped her into the formidable agent she had once been. What would he say if he could see her now? Would he forgive her?
Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, a silent prayer forming on her lips. She prayed for forgiveness, for understanding, and for the strength to find her way back to the person she used to be. The world she had known was crumbling around her, and she could only hope that, somehow, she could redeem herself before it was too late.
"Damn it, pick up!" she muttered under her breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed redial on her phone. She needed the Lunatic—desperately. His unpredictable nature was both a curse and a blessing, but right now, she needed him by her side. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer, only the monotonous buzz of an unanswered call.
She glanced over the edge of the table, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her. The room was a wreck—overturned chairs, shattered glass, and the bodies of her would-be assailants strewn across the floor. But more was coming; she could hear them in the hallway, their heavy footsteps and low murmurs growing louder.
"Come on, come on," she whispered, her thumb hovering over the call button. The Lunatic was her last hope, the wildcard she needed to tip the scales in her favor. She couldn't afford to lose this fight—not when so much was at stake.
Another gunshot rang out, splintering the table above her head, and she ducked, adrenaline surging through her veins. She cursed under her breath, her mind racing. She couldn't rely on him anymore.
The phone buzzed in her hand, finally connecting. Evelyn raised it to her ear, her voice a mix of relief and urgency. "Where the hell are you?" she hissed.
A low chuckle greeted her from the other end. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
Evelyn rolled her eyes, her grip tightening on the Glock. "Just get here. Now."
*****
Alexander sat at his desk, a small, almost boyish smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he fiddled with his phone. The usual intensity in his sharp, calculating gaze had softened, replaced by something his secretary could only describe as... lovesick. It was a look so foreign on his boss's usually stoic face that it sent a chill down his spine.
The Alexander Whittaker he knew was a feared and powerful crime boss, a man who commanded respect and instilled fear with just a glance. But this—this was something else entirely. The secretary watched in a mixture of disbelief and unease as his boss, the man who once ruled the underworld with an iron fist, now seemed to be floating on a cloud of blissful ignorance.
"She says she needs me," Alexander murmured, almost to himself, his voice tinged with a softness that was entirely out of character. The words were simple, but the way he said them, with that unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, sent a shiver down his secretary's spine.
The secretary couldn't help but feel horrified. This was not the man he had served loyally for years. Alexander had always been a master of control, his emotions locked away behind a fortress of discipline and ruthlessness. But ever since he married Evelyn, that fortress seemed to be crumbling, piece by piece.
"Sir, are you... okay?" the secretary ventured cautiously, not entirely sure how to address the sudden and startling transformation in his boss.
Alexander looked up from his phone, his smile still lingering. "Never been better," he replied, his voice carrying an almost dreamy quality that sent another wave of unease through the room.
The secretary tried to mask his concern, but the question lingered in his mind: What had Evelyn done to him? Alexander had always been a man of few words, his emotions guarded, his heart locked away. But now, here he was, grinning like a schoolboy over a simple message, his entire demeanor softened by the mere thought of his wife.
"She says she needs me," Alexander repeated, this time with a hint of wonder as if the very idea was both thrilling and unbelievable to him. The secretary could hardly recognize the man in front of him.
What kind of power did Evelyn have over him? The secretary knew better than to voice his thoughts, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this newfound vulnerability in his boss was dangerous. Not for Alexander, but for anyone who dared to threaten the one thing that could bring a man like him to his knees.
Alexander's smile widened as he returned his attention to his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen as if savoring the moment. It was clear that his heart had been irrevocably claimed by Evelyn, and with it, the cold, unyielding man he used to be was slowly being replaced by someone who dared to love and be loved in return.
*****
As Evelyn crouched behind the table, her heart racing with a mix of fear and relief, she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She tensed, expecting the worst, but the figure that emerged was not another assailant—it was Camilio, Alexander's right-hand man.
Camilio sneaks into the room, his eyes scanning the scene with a quick, professional assessment before landing on the shadow of a figure behind the office table. Camilio adjusted his silencer and gave directions to another sniper from the opposite building. His usually stern face showed a flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a stoic expression. Camilio shoots the two remaining assailants and runs towards the figure behind the thick office table.
Evelyn couldn't help but be grateful when he extended her a hand and helped her to her feet. Upon glancing at him, she identified the man who had consistently and imposingly stood by Alexander's side. His short, uncontrolled red scorching hair, along with his fiery temper and athleticism, are unparalleled. He had a strange familiarity about him, and when the adrenaline wore off, recollections of their previous interactions came back.
She could still clearly recall the day she shot this man in the knees during one of their clashes when the government was investigating Arcane Arms, which deals with illegal artillery and weapons in international trade.
"Camilio," she said, her voice breathless. "We've... met before."
Camilio raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp and calculating. "We have," he said, his tone neutral but his eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "Seems like we've been on opposite sides more than once."
Evelyn gave a nod, memories returning. They had crossed paths while she was working as an undercover spy. This man appears to have similar recollections, but instead of displaying animosity, he just appears confused.
Evelyn then looks over her shoulder to see a couple of snipers wearing the Arcane Family emblem. In reality, her sweet spouse is pursuing her and waiting for her, pleading with him for assistance. With a simple sigh, she drops to the ground. The irony of their current predicament, with her antagonist rescuing her, was not lost on her.
She recalls, "Isn't it all Alexander Whittaker's fault?" Yes, the man dubbed the merciless CEO is the supreme commander of the Underworld Empire. She lets out another sigh.
Camilio's eyes softened slightly as he regarded her. "You're the boss's wife. I never would have guessed."
A moment of awkward silence followed, and Camilio's mind began to whirl with possibilities. His gaze flicked back to the phone that Alexander had been obsessively checking, the soft, lovesick look on his boss's face flashing through his mind.
"Is it possible..." Camilio mused aloud, more to himself than to Evelyn, "that our boss is a bit of a masochist?"
Evelyn's eyes widened, her face a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Masochist?"
Camilio nodded, his expression a blend of skepticism. "I mean, the guy who's always been the most fearsome, the one who keeps everyone in line... and now, he's like a lovesick fool over you. It's not what I expected. Maybe he enjoys the torment of loving someone who tried to kill him before. So... complicated."
Evelyn chuckled dryly with a hint of sarcasm. despite the situation, she's shaking her head. "Or maybe he just really loves me."