Prologue

The clacking of high heels echoed through the alley — a rhythmic, staccato warning to anyone nearby. The woman wore a long coat, her face hidden behind a black medical mask and sunglasses, her hands encased in black leather gloves. She moved with lethal purpose, her heels striking the pavement with steady, deliberate beats as she headed toward the city.

Suddenly, she sensed movement behind her. Without breaking stride, she slipped a dagger from beneath her coat, the blade hidden but ready. She waited, each breath forming a ghostly cloud in the cold night air.

Her pursuer was careful, his boots silent on the cobblestones. She could feel the heat of his body as he closed the distance, his shadow reaching for hers. With one final breath, she prepared herself.

The moment he raised his gun to shoot, she threw her coat into the air — a distraction. Time slowed as the man fired at the fluttering fabric.

In a blur, she was upon him, her blade flashing. She sliced deep into his arms, the cuts precise and merciless. The gun clattered to the ground as the man screamed, his limbs now useless. He looked up, terror etched across his features as he recognized the deadly assassin standing over him. Her golden eyes blazed with cold, unyielding fury.

"Please, spare me... I was just tasked to kill you," he begged, his voice trembling.

She knelt, her face close to his. "Who sent you, Rys?" she asked, her voice ice-cold.

He quivered, struggling to form words, his loyalty sealing his fate. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood, kicking him hard, sending him crashing into the wall. Slowly, she approached again, grabbing his collar and yanking him upright.

"Rys, are you now the most loyal dog of our Assassin Organization? My fellow colleague, your life ends here," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Rys, smirking through the pain, leaned against the wall. "Oleander, your head is worth thirty million dollars," he taunted.

Her expression hardened. She picked up his gun and aimed at his head. "Betrayed by my own," she murmured, before pulling the trigger. The shot rang out, silencing his smirk forever. She tossed the gun aside, then dropped a red oleander flower on his lifeless body.

Methodically, she cleaned her dagger and gloves, wiping away the blood.

Turning away, she retrieved her coat and slipped it on, her heart now a furnace of vengeance. She donned her sunglasses again and melted into the crowd.

Meanwhile, a young Mafia leader with piercing grey eyes and a long sideswept hairstyle approached Rys’s corpse. Dressed in a black suit, he exuded cold authority.
"Looks like my sweet killer has been betrayed by her very own organization," he said, smirking despite the disgust in his eyes. Lighting a cigarette, he glanced at his watch: 7:50 a.m.

He turned to one of his guards with a subtle nod. The guard slipped away to shadow Oleander. The mafia leader took a long drag, the ember glowing as he walked to his car — a dark plan forming.

Inside, seated in command, he held a photograph of a woman with white-dyed hair and blue contact lenses. She wore a slight smile, almost ethereal, like a goddess captured on film.

"My sweet Luna," he murmured, a twisted smile curling his lips, his voice dripping with possessiveness and malice.

The wail of sirens grew louder as police reached Rys’s body. Officers found the red oleander, sealing the realization of who had done this.

"Drive," he commanded, voice cold.

The car moved, his eyes never leaving the chaos in their wake. His fingers tightened around Luna’s photograph. The treacherous organization that betrayed her would pay dearly — and he would orchestrate their downfall.

His smirk widened, eyes dark and dangerous. He was a man who thrived on control and domination, and he would stop at nothing to reclaim what he considered his.

And so, with a heart full of dark intent and a mind sharp with cunning, he set his sights on the only woman who had truly captivated him.

His Luna. His weapon. His possession.

The car sped through the city, carrying a promise of violence and vengeance. The leader’s presence loomed like a specter, ready to unleash hell on anyone who stood in his way.