Chapter 8 Please help me

The beautiful woman stepped forward with a smile. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, Mr. Kane?”

Kane shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. There’s someone I need to see, and I’m already late.”

Her smile vanished. “It would be incredibly impolite,” she said firmly, “and quite rude to keep rejecting offers in Drakonspire Villa.”

Kane glanced at Ethan, who watched with an amused smirk. He didn’t want to insult their hospitality after everything. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

Her smile returned instantly. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Good boy.”

Her warm breath brushed his ear before she pulled away and headed toward the kitchen.

Ethan laughed as he watched her go. “That’s Delilah. Sharp as a blade and twice as charming. Don’t let the elegance fool you — she’s got a dangerous streak.”

Kane gave a faint smile and nodded.

Dinner was served quickly. The food was excellent, but the conversation stayed sharp and focused on the upcoming hunt for Marcus Kade.

After the meal, Kane stood up. “Thank you for the hospitality. I should leave now.”

As he reached the entrance, Ethan called after him. “Kane. Next time, I’ll properly introduce you to my granddaughter.”

Kane nodded. “That’s fine, sir. I appreciate everything tonight.”

He gave a crisp salute and turned to leave.

A few steps later, he stopped. Something felt off. He turned back.

“Ethan,” Kane said, voice low and serious. “Be careful.”

Titan didn’t finish his sentence.

“I think there might be people who’ve compromised this villa,” Kane said. “Drakonspire isn’t a place anyone can just walk into. For them to get this close, someone inside is working against you.”

“Inside work…” Ethan repeated, eyes narrowing. He understood exactly what Kane meant.

“We’ll look into it,” Ethan said. “Thank you for everything, Kane.”

Kane nodded.

He turned and walked out of the villa. As he moved down the quiet street, his sleeve shifted, revealing the old scar on his wrist — the unmistakable mark from years of sniper rifle recoil.

That scar reminded him of the man he was heading to see.

Alexandre “Alex” Kaine. His spotter. His second-in-command. His best friend.

They had survived impossible missions together. Alex could spot a target from miles away and guide Kane’s shots perfectly. They were unstoppable.

Then Kane got sent to Ravenlock Prison. While he was locked away, he heard Alex died in a “car accident.” Burst tire. Official report called it bad luck. Kane knew better. Alex never left anything to chance.

Kane kept walking until he reached a dimly lit corner. He stopped abruptly.

“Don’t you think you’ve followed me long enough?” Kane said without turning. “It’s time you headed back.”

He pivoted. Delilah stood a few steps behind, looking surprised before her lips curled into an amused smirk.

“You’re incredible,” she said, walking closer with hands on her hips. “You’re the first person who’s ever caught me tailing them. Usually they only notice when my knife is at their throat.”

Kane crossed his arms. “You’re good. But not invisible. Footsteps, reflections in windows, breathing patterns — it all adds up.”

Delilah laughed softly, low and sultry. “I see why Ethan respects you. You’re sharp.”

Kane raised an eyebrow. “Why are you following me? If Ethan has questions, he can ask directly.”

Delilah’s smirk widened. Her hand moved in a blur, flinging a sleek dagger straight at his chest.

Kane twisted his body. The blade whistled past and embedded deep into a wooden pole behind him.

Before she could react, Kane closed the distance and drove his knee hard into her abdomen.

Delilah stumbled back and crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach.

“What the hell was that about?” Kane demanded, standing over her.

Delilah smiled through the pain. “That’s all for today.”

Kane furrowed his brows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She pushed herself up slowly and brushed the dust off her clothes. “It means I’m done.” She turned on her heel and started walking away.

Kane finally reached his shabby dormitory after the long night. The building was old and crumbling, and his room was nothing more than a small, depressing space with peeling wallpaper, a lumpy mattress, and a noisy ceiling fan that did little except rattle loudly overhead.

He tossed his jacket onto the lone chair and headed into the bathroom to wash away the day’s events. The bathroom was just as disappointing, with cracked tiles and a sink that leaked constantly, though the water pressure was decent enough.

Midway through rinsing the soap from his face, the water suddenly spluttered and stopped completely, leaving him standing there with soap stinging his eyes. “Great,” he muttered, groping blindly for a towel while the lights flickered in protest.

He stepped out, dried himself quickly, and threw on a pair of pants and a faded shirt. Just as he finished dressing, the electricity went out, plunging the entire room into complete darkness. Kane sighed in annoyance, but before he could curse his luck, a loud banging shattered the silence.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He stood still for a moment, listening intently. The knocking was not polite — it was desperate and urgent. Kane reached under the mattress and pulled out the small knife he kept hidden there, then approached the door silently.

“Who is it?” he asked.

There was no answer, but the banging continued, growing even harder and more frantic.

Kane’s hand hovered over the doorknob. He twisted it sharply and yanked the door open.

A strange woman stood before him. Her clothes were disheveled, her hair clung damply to her face, and she kept glancing nervously behind her as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

“Please help me,” she begged, her voice shaking with fear.