"He's not here!" I shouted over the Bluetooth device, gripping my gun tighter as I scanned the scene—food and empty alcohol bottles littered the ground.

The room was a mess, and tension crawled up my spine. I didn't trust that silence.

"You bitch!" A voice barked from behind me. Instinctively, I spun around and punched the man before he could touch me, but he quickly recovered, pulling out a knife.

"You approached me on purpose, didn't you?" he sneered, his eyes locked on mine, assessing. He knew he couldn't escape, not with me here.

"Why ask the obvious?" I replied coldly, striking first. He drove the knife toward my throat, but I caught his wrist, redirecting the blade into his chest. He screamed in agony.

"How pathetic," I hissed.

"Can't take what you dish out?" Before he could answer, I knocked him out with the butt of my gun.

"Everything alright?" Henry's voice crackled through the earpiece."Cleared," I muttered, not thrilled but relieved the worst seemed over.

I left the room and crossed to the next. Henry stood there, his gun raised, eyes sharp. I exhaled in relief—we were both still standing.

"Where's the backup? I don't think we're dealing with what we expected." I said as sweat trickled down my forehead. Henry gave me a look as if I should've known better.

"Backup? I thought you were calling them."I glared at him. "You thought we could handle all of them alone? I'm no superhero!"He shrugged, completely unbothered.

This idiot!Grabbing my walkie-talkie, I called for backup. "Over, over. We need reinforcements." I clipped it back to my belt, glaring at Henry, who just smiled.

"Stay behind me," he said in that deep, annoyingly commanding voice.

"I'm not a child," I retorted, but he ignored me.We approached the basement door, the place I despised the most.

Opening it felt like stepping into another world—the darkness greeted us like a whisper of danger. Loud music thudded from behind the walls. No one down there had any idea of the carnage happening above.Gun raised, I followed Henry into the club. The space was filled with people—some dancing, others engaging in much darker activities.

This was the heart of it all: drugs, assault, human degradation, even though it wasn't their only location, it might lead us to the others. I had to suppress the urge to vomit. Henry fired a shot into the ceiling.

"Hands down, everyone!"

Panic erupted. Men scrambled, the women they'd been abusing too stunned to react.This place was where the powerful preyed on the helpless, where they indulged in their worst desires.

We'd infiltrated for weeks, and now, we were finally shutting them down. Henry and I had gotten close to Simon, the key player, through careful manipulation, earning an invitation to this exclusive hellhole.

I stepped forward, slapping cuffs on Benedict, one of the ringleaders. "You're under arrest for sexual assault, murder, embezzlement, and drug trafficking." Benedict just smiled, as if this was all part of some sick game.

"You're going to pay for your sins," I growled, but he didn't flinch. "I think they're here," Jeremy's voice came through the comms. I smiled slightly.

"They're here," I whispered to Henry as we opened the door for what should have been our team—but the sight that greeted us wasn't backup. It was Benedict's men.

"How did they—"Before I could finish the thought, one of Benedict's men charged at me. I dodged, shooting him in the leg. None of them had guns, but the sheer number was overwhelming.

"This isn't our backup!" I yelled into the comm."What?!" Jeremy's confusion echoed through the line."We've been set up!" I shouted back, kicking another attacker to the ground.

"Oh, I think they're here," Jeremy said as more men stormed into the room. "Let them in, quick!" I dashed forward, kicking one of them in the chest.The impact sent him crashing to the floor, but my focus shifted for just a second—long enough for Benedict to slip away and I couldn't even run after him.

I cursed under my breath. No wonder he wasn't scared. He knew he had an escape plan. Henry wiped the trail of sweat on his forehead as he took down one of the attackers with a clean shot.

But another crept up behind him, knife raised. "Henry!" I yelled, and he spun just in time, dodging the blade. He flashed me a charismatic smile, and I nearly let out a breath of relief. But then, pain seared through my lower abdomen. My vision blurred as the sharp agony of a knife sinking into my stomach hit me like a freight train.

"Jamila!" Henry's shout was distant, muffled, as though I were underwater. I heard another gunshot, then the heavy thud of someone hitting the ground. My hand flew to my stomach. Blood—warm and sticky—seeped through my fingers, staining my clothes.

I hiccuped, the pain making my body tremble."I'm… okay," I rasped, though the words tasted like a lie. Henry's arms steadied me before I could collapse, but I couldn't hold on much longer.

The others—they would finish this. They had to. I let my body go slack as my vision faded into darkness.The last thing I heard was Henry calling my name.

When I woke up, the first thing that hit me was the smell—sterile, antiseptic. Hospitals. I crinkle my nose in distaste. I hated hospitals. I forced myself to sit up, wincing as a dull ache pulsed through my body.

I was in a VIP room, of course. One of the perks of being a private agent. I knew Benedict escaped, and the thought made me grit my teeth, but I'm quite sure Henry and the others had the other ringleaders arrested.

It would at least lead them to something. My phone. Where was my phone? I glanced around the room, spotting it on the bedside table. I smiled faintly, reaching for it. It felt strange that I hadn't heard from Abdul Quadri yet—my fiancé, the love of my life. If he knew I was in the hospital, he would have dropped everything to be here.

We were getting married in a few weeks, and the thought of that brought a small, comforting warmth to my chest. Abdul Quadri was everything I had ever wanted in a partner—caring, patient, and above all, a devout believer. He feared Allah, and that was what drew me to him most. His faith anchored him, and in turn, anchored me.

Yes, I am a Muslim, and a devout one at that. My faith shaped everything I did, including my decision to become a private agent. From a young age, I had a passion for justice, for eradicating evil from the world. It wasn't an easy path to choose, but it was the right one for me.As soon as the call connected, his voice came through, calm as ever.

"I was just about to call you."I grinned.

"Couldn't wait to hear my voice?" But something in his tone shifted.

"I have something to tell you, Jamila." The seriousness of his voice made my stomach twist.

"I'm listening."

"I can't go through with the wedding. I've thought about it, and… I'm sorry." For a moment, I thought I was still unconscious, trapped in some nightmare. "What are you saying? The wedding is in three weeks!"

"I'm sorry, Jamila," he said again, and the line went dead, "At least tell me why.." But he had cut The call. The phone fell from my hand just as my sister called. I forced myself to pick it up.

"Henry told me you're in the hospital. Are you okay?" I couldn't respond. The words were stuck in my throat, suffocating me. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally came, hot and unstoppable.

"I'm fine," I whispered, even though I felt like I was falling apart.

"I'll let Aisha know you're okay. Rest up, sis." She hung up, and I was left alone with my thoughts. I needed answers. Why had Quadri called off the wedding? What has changed? I had to see him.Ignoring the pain, I got out of bed, pulling the IV pole along with me as I staggered into the hallway.

Henry was there, looking exhausted.

"What are you doing?" he asked, exasperated.

"I think I'm fine. I want to be discharged."

"What nonsense are you saying? You got stabbed! You're not getting discharged!" Henry said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

His expression was a blend of worry and frustration, and I could see the glare in his eyes. Reluctantly, I decided to let it go—for now. I'd look for Quadri tomorrow. 

The night had settled in, and the walls of the hospital room felt suffocating.

"Can I at least get some fresh air?" I asked, my voice quieter, almost pleading. Henry sighed deeply, clearly hesitant, but didn't object.

Just then, a nurse passed by, and I quickly caught her attention.

"Excuse me, I'd like to step outside for a bit," I said. She glanced at Henry, then back at me, before giving a small nod.

"Sure, that's fine," she said.Henry started to follow, but I stopped him with a hand.

"I'd like to be alone," I added softly, and after a brief pause, he nodded, though his eyes held concern.

I headed toward the rooftop, my steps unsteady but determined.The night sky was beautiful—crisp and clear, with stars scattered like diamonds. I leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze brush against my skin.

Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, but I swallowed them back. This had to be a prank. Abdul Quadri wouldn't do this to me. He loved me… didn't he? The doubts gnawed at my heart, but before I could dwell on them, my phone buzzed in my hand.

Quadri's name flashed on the screen. My heart raced—maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe he was calling to explain everything.But before I could pick up, I felt a sharp shove from behind.

I screamed as I was thrown off balance, my body tipping over the railing. The fall was excruciatingly fast, and then the impact came—a sickening crunch as my skull collided with the hard ground.

The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony ripping through me.The knife wound was nothing compared to this. My vision blurred as I lay there, blood pooling around me.

My life didn't flash before me like I had always thought I would when I die but instead all I could think about was: Why had Quadri called? Why did he cancel the wedding? And who pushed me?

The questions swirled in my mind, but I had no strength to answer them. I could feel the life draining from my body, and I silently begged.

Please, Ya Allah, don't let me die.

I don't want to die.But no sound came out. My world faded into a thick, black void.

"Princess? You're awake!?" A voice, sharp and unfamiliar, pulled me from the darkness. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I felt was the pain—a throbbing ache in my head. I blinked rapidly, struggling to adjust to the bright light.

Princess? Who was calling me that?

"Princess!!" The voice called again, and I turned my head, squinting at the strange girl standing over me. Her clothes were unlike anything I'd ever seen—traditional, almost medieval like I see in historical movies. 

"Who are you calling princess?" I croaked, my voice rough, unfamiliar even to me. Slowly, I sat up, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my back. I touched my face, realizing that even my features felt different.

"You are the Princess of Corinthia," the girl said, her expression filled with concern.

"Did you hit your head? You must be confused."I stared at her, bewildered.

Princess of Corinthia?

What was she talking about? My head was spinning. I winced again, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I'll go summom the physician!" she said, hurrying out of the room. As soon as she left, I stumbled to my feet and headed for the nearest mirror. My breath caught in my throat.The reflection staring back at me wasn't mine.

Gone was the face I had known all my life, replaced by someone else's. My heart raced in panic as I took in the unfamiliar features— the long black hair, the delicate nose, the caramel complexion, the piercing blue eyes. I wasn't me anymore.

What had happened?I staggered back, my hands trembling. Had I… been reincarnated? Had I become a princess in another world? I closed my eyes, feeling the headache intensify. How was any of this possible?And more importantly…

What was I going to do now?