Dessie stepped back into the mansion, shutting the grand doors behind her. The silence that greeted her was both comforting and unnerving. With a slow exhale, she sank into the velvet couch in the foyer, her thoughts a mess of satisfaction and confusion. The headlines flashing in her mind brought a twisted smirk to her lips: "SYREN's Axel rushed to the hospital!"
But even as she replayed the images and words she saw online, something didn't sit right.
"He should be dead," she muttered under her breath, brows knitting together. "The mission was to kill him, not send him to a damn hospital."
The gangsters had assured her they would handle it. Not amateurs, but seasoned criminals—men who moved in a group and knew how to make someone disappear without a trace. Axel had no reason to survive that ambush. And yet, somehow, he had.
