Violet froze, her body screaming in protest as pain throbbed through her every limb. Her breaths came shallow and uneven, her strength drained, but her mind refused to stop screaming for an escape.
"Pl-please…" she begged, her voice hoarse. But her cries only seemed to fuel Mr. Flint's perverse grin. His pudgy frame loomed closer, his grin widening with sick pleasure as he watched her squirm.
Violet clenched her jaw, forcing down the panic rising in her chest. If he moved even an inch closer, she was prepared to sink her teeth into him—anything to protect herself. Just as she braced herself, the door swung open, the sound like a lifeline cutting through her suffocating fear.
Troy, one of Flint's lackeys, entered the room without hesitation. "Boss, Mr. Rexter is here to see you," he announced, his tone clipped.
Flint whipped around, his expression twisting into a snarl. "Didn't I tell you to get out?" he barked, but Troy stood firm, his voice steady as he replied.
"I'm sorry, boss, but it's urgent. The boy we gave him… killed himself."
The words seemed to drain all the color from Flint's face. He scrambled to buckle his pants and smooth his rumpled shirt, his attempts at nonchalance only making his fear more obvious. "The boy… what? How is that possible? Wasn't he under constant watch?"
"He was," Troy replied grimly, his eyes betraying unease. "But he managed it anyway. Mr. Rexter isn't happy."
Flint muttered a curse under his breath, then stormed toward the door. His movements were brisk but clumsy, betraying his rising panic. "Where is he?"
"In the corridor. He refuses to wait," Troy said, stepping aside to let Flint pass. "And he's demanding answers."
Flint faltered at the doorway, hesitating before finally stepping into the corridor. Violet, left alone in the dim room, seized the moment. She pushed herself up, her body trembling with the effort, and crept toward the open door. Every muscle screamed at her to stop, but she forced herself to keep moving. Peering through the crack, she caught a glimpse of a tall, pale-skinned man standing in the hallway.
"My spy is dead Flint!!! Explain that!!!"
"M-mr Rexter," Flint stammered, his voice dripping with false confidence, "I can assure you, this is just a minor setback. I'll find a replacement for the boy—"
"You've already disappointed me," Rexter interrupted, his voice cold and sharp as a blade.
"How do you plan to find a good enough replacement before tomorrow?"
Flint's bluster faltered. "I—I'll make it happen. You have my word."
"Your word means nothing to me!" Rexter snapped. "I need someone for the mission now!"
His pale eyes, nearly red, bore down on Flint, and even from her hiding spot, Violet felt the weight of his presence. His aura was suffocating, as though the very air had turned heavy under his scrutiny.
Violet knew she should stay hidden, should use the distraction to plan her escape. But something in Rexter's words caught her attention. A spy? A replacement? Her mind raced.
Anything is better than staying here and waiting for Flint to come back.
Before she realized it, she had stepped out of the room and into the corridor. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she pushed forward, her gaze locked on the two men. Flint noticed her first, his expression twisting into fury.
"Get back to your room!" he hissed, but Violet ignored him, her focus on Rexter. Her voice came out strong despite the tremor in her limbs.
"If you need someone to spy, I can do it," she said, her words ringing through the corridor.
Flint let out a bark of laughter, his face darkening with anger. "We need a man," he snarled. "Not some useless—"
"You mean like the one who killed himself?" Violet shot back, cutting him off. Her head held high despite the pain, she turned her gaze to Rexter. The moment her eyes met his, she faltered.
His eyes weren't quite red, but they were a pale shade that sent a chill down her spine. Warnings from the districts echoed in her mind: Red eyes or gold! Beware! Run! Monsters!
Rexter must have noticed her hesitation because he spoke, his voice calm but piercing. "They're just contacts," he said. "I get that reaction all the time. There's nothing to worry about."
Violet nodded, though the unease in her chest didn't fade. Contacts or not, those eyes belong to a monster, she thought.
"Do you think you can pull it off?" Rexter asked, tilting his head slightly. "Aren't you curious about who you'll be spying on?"
Violet swallowed hard but nodded. "I-I can do it. I'll do whatever it takes."
"You'll be killed most maliciously if you're caught," Rexter warned, his tone devoid of emotion. "And if you fail…" He leaned closer, his pale eyes narrowing. "I'll kill you myself."
A shiver ran down her spine at the cold certainty in his voice. He wasn't bluffing.
"I understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible. But in her mind, all she could think about was escape. If she could use this task as a way to get out of Flint's grasp, she would. I'll disappear. Even the person I'm spying on won't be able to stop me.
Flint, who had been stewing in silence, finally erupted. "This is ridiculous! She's a woman! Her voice, her body—anyone would see through her in an instant!"
Rexter turned to Flint, silencing him with a single glare. "She's not the only one I'm sending," he said, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "If she gets caught, it'll only make things easier for the other operative."
Violet's stomach churned at the way he spoke about her, like she was a disposable pawn. But she held her ground, knowing she had no other choice.
"I'll do it," she said again, her voice steady this time. She didn't miss the glint of satisfaction in Rexter's pale eyes as he studied her.
"Good," he said simply, his tone final. "Then it's settled."