Soren's POV
The newly built national museum was an architectural marvel, with vaulted ceilings covered with elaborate murals and chandeliers that shone like constellations. Diplomats, socialites, and art enthusiasts packed the great hall, mixing with the faint tones of classical music.
Walking beside me was Michael Caldwell, the Secretary of State, whose influence had the potential to catapult Blackwood Enterprises to new heights. I had spent weeks planning this meeting, ensuring that every element of the day was perfect.
"Isn't it remarkable?" Caldwell mused as we paused in front of a centuries-old sculpture. "The craftsmanship on this piece is extraordinary."
An enthusiastic response came from the museum manager, a wiry man with round glasses balanced dangerously on his nose. "Sir, this sculpture is from the 16th century. Rumor has it that spies from that period utilized it to hide classified communications.
Curiosity spurred Caldwell to bend closer. "Interesting. History frequently conceals its most fascinating tales in plain view.
I pretended to be interested as I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Leona's name was appearing on the screen of my phone, which was buzzing nonstop in my pocket. Her calls became increasingly frequent by the minute, and she was unrelenting.
I straightened my tie and tried to keep my cool. I couldn't let her diversions ruin this crucial meeting. "Pardon me," I replied, taking a small step back. "I need water."
My assistant scurried off to fulfill the request, and I turned my attention back to the conversation.
"The detail on this painting," the manager continued, gesturing toward an ornate canvas, "is believed to hold clues to a long-lost treasure."
Caldwell's eyes lit up with intrigue. "A treasure, you say?"
I gave a courteous grin, but I was getting impatient. While Caldwell was enthralled with tales of espionage and unexpected riches, my mind was consumed with the incessant buzzing in my pocket and the necessity of completing this transaction for Blackwood Enterprises.
The lights abruptly went out.
The crowd began to tremble, and their whispers became gasps. The enormous hall was briefly enveloped in darkness, with the only sound coming from the rustling of nervous people. The lights then came back with a startling flicker, and mayhem broke out.
We were encircled by masked individuals brandishing assault rifles, their weapons shining ominously beneath the chandeliers.
"Get down! Nobody moves!" one of them barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
Unlike wildfire, panic spread. As the guests yelled, some fell to the ground and others froze in disbelief. Despite the museum guards' quick response, they were brutally attacked. I watched in horror as other guards collapsed, their lifeless bodies strewn across the polished marble floor, as gunshots reverberated across the hall.
"Caldwell gripped my arm and murmured, "Soren." "What's going on?"
"I'm not sure," I answered, my voice tense. "Just keep quiet and low."
My thoughts were racing, trying to come up with a plan or a way out, but the intruders were ahead. Their motions were accurate and well-coordinated, as though they had practiced this situation countless times.
"Everyone on your knees!" the leader commanded, his weapon trained on the trembling crowd.
I knelt down reluctantly, my heart thumping in my chest. Leona's perseverance was a humorous contrast to the life-threatening circumstance I suddenly found myself in, as my phone rang once more.
The museum manager was quickly singled out by the robbers. With a gun to his temple, one of them seized him by the collar and dragged him to his feet.
"Pack up The Starlight Night, Eclipse of the Moon, and The Skyler Watcher," the leader said. "Now."
The manager stammered, his glasses slipping down his nose. "B-but those pieces are irreplaceable!"
The thief sneered, jamming the gun harder against his temple. "Do it, or you're next."
I clenched my fists, fury, and hopelessness bubbling within me. This was intended to be a watershed moment for my company, an opportunity to get Caldwell's support. Now, it was a waking nightmare.
Then a shadow walked swiftly and purposefully through the chaos.
A stranger appeared from the outskirts, moving with lightning speed before anyone could react. One of the masked robbers grunted in surprise when his weapon was torn from his hands, and then he was kicked so hard that he fell to the ground.
As the figure of a lady wearing sleek black combat gear kept up her attack, gasps rang out over the air. Her motions were relentless and accurate, with each blow intended to render her opponents helpless.
Another robber raised his weapon, but she was quicker, disarming him with a smooth motion and striking him with a vicious elbow that knocked him out cold.
As they attacked the remaining invaders, more agents dressed similarly rushed the hall with their rifles drawn. However, the woman was the center of attention. She exuded strength and control in every movement, moving like a predator.
"Who is that?" Caldwell's voice was shaking as he whispered.
"I don't know either. Unable to take my eyes off of her, I whispered.
A few robbers escaped despite their reinforcements, and they vanished via the museum's maze-like hallways with The Silent Watcher after them. The rest of the intruders were quickly brought down, their hands bound, and their weapons seized.
Despite the ferocity of the conflict, the woman stood in the middle of the turmoil, breathing steadily. With an authority that left no space for doubt, she gave the agents commands by shouting them.
"Secure the exits," she said in a firm, piercing voice. "No one departs without authorization."
"Yes, ma'am," the agents all said simultaneously, as they hurried to follow her directions.
I kept a tight eye on her as a weird feeling of familiarity pulled at the corners of my recollection. Despite her authoritative and captivating personality, there was something eerie about her piercing Caribbean blue eyes.
She was gingerly approached by the museum manager, who was still clearly disturbed. "I'm grateful. You saved us, but I'm not sure who you are.
Her face was unreadable as she glanced at him. "Just doing my job," she curtly answered.
I was unable to turn away. She stirred something deep within me with the way she moved and the fire in her eyes.
Then, as though sensing my attention, she turned and met my gaze.
The sounds of the world around us temporarily subsided. Her unwavering, icy stare sliced into me like a dagger.
Then it dawned on me.
It was Anna. her eyes, her features, her dominant demeanor.
My ex-wife.
I believed I would never see the woman I had deceived and betrayed again.
Her look was impenetrable as she stared at me for what seemed like an age. However, I noticed something in her gaze that chilled me to the bone.
Recognition And hatred.
She turned away without saying anything, returning her focus to her squad. However, the burden of that instance persisted, a confining reminder of the past I had made an effort to forget.
I sat motionless, my thoughts racing as the agents cleared the area and got ready to take the apprehended criminals away.
What was she doing here? How had she become…this?
And most importantly, what would she do now that she had found me?