The Seductive Vixen Appears
Julian D’Aurelius glanced up at the woman approaching and, for the first ti that night, silently agreed with Mike Valquin from the bottom of his heart.
Purely in terms of beauty, she was not inferior to Selene Aurevale—the acknowledged number one beauty of Valemont.
But where Selene was cool and distant like moonlight on still water, this woman was different.
She burned.
Her presence carried a slow, intoxicating heat, as though she had been born with temptation woven into her bones.
Long green hair cascaded down her back like a silk waterfall under club lights, faint erald strands catching flashes of neon. Her purple almond-shaped eyes were deep and sharp, layered with intelligence beneath the playful shimr. Her white semi-transparent blouse clung delicately to her figure, hinting more than revealing, the soft fabric tracing the curve of her F-cup breasts and narrow waist. A black leather skirt hugged her voluptuous hips, emphasizing the swell of her thighs. Her long, snow-white legs seed to glow against the dim interior of MoonDrift Club.
When her gaze t his golden eyes, a brief flicker of surprise crossed her face.
Then she sat down beside him gracefully and extended her hand.
"Young Master D’Aurelius, you’re so handso. I’m Lina Ashford, nice to et you."
Her voice was smooth—like wine poured slowly into crystal.
Julian smiled automatically, slipping into the persona he had carefully crafted.
"I’m even happier to et you, Miss Lina, such a beautiful lady."
He took her hand.
It was cool. Smooth. Almost unnaturally steady.
And then—
His pupils contracted.
[Holy shit, isn’t this the Seductive Vixen?]
[Damn it, Evan, that bastard, moved this quickly? He already sent her over?]
[No, her target shouldn’t be ; it should be Mike!]
Julian’s heartbeat skipped.
Inside, alarms rang like temple bells struck at midnight.
Lina felt it too.
Not the tension in his fingers.
Not the warmth of the club.
But the voice.
His voice.
Inside her head.
She nearly froze.
Yes, she was one of Evan’s carefully placed pieces. One of the elite operatives of Obsidian Wing. A blade hidden in silk.
But just now—
She had heard him.
Clearly.
"What’s going on with this guy? Is he using ventriloquism to talk to ? No, this definitely isn’t ventriloquism."
A thin line of shock passed through her eyes before she suppressed it.
As a top assassin, she had mastered countless techniques. Disguise. Poisons. Silent kills. Psychological manipulation.
Ventriloquism?
Child’s play.
But this wasn’t that.
There was no lip movent. No breath shift. No throat vibration.
The words had echoed directly inside her mind.
anwhile, Mike Valquin watched them holding hands for slightly too long and felt a faint sting of jealousy.
Big Brother really is Big Brother.
So damn handso that won lt on contact.
Just a handshake and it’s already electric?
At this rate, tonight’s going to explode.
Coming back to herself, Lina curved her lips into a gentle smile.
"Young Master Julian, I think you take very good care of your skin. Your hands are even fairer and more tender than mine."
Her thumb brushed faintly across his knuckles.
Testing.
"Ah, really?"
Julian let out a short laugh and withdrew his hand a fraction too quickly.
His nerves were humming.
He glanced sideways at Mike.
Mike was grinning like an idiot, giving him a thumbs-up and mouthing exaggeratedly:
"How about it, Big Brother? Am I loyal or what?"
[Loyal, my ass! Damn it, she’s an assassin!]
[Her target is you, and you pushed her onto !]
[I treat you like a brother, and you repay like this!]
Lina’s heartbeat spiked again.
There it was.
Again.
She wasn’t mistaken.
She was hearing his inner thoughts.
This was no technique she recognized. No illusion. No sound trick.
For the first ti in years, the Seductive Vixen felt sothing unfamiliar.
Uncertainty.
Stay calm.
Don’t react.
Don’t expose yourself.
She inhaled slowly, steadying her pulse.
The bass from the dance floor thudded through the walls, but her breathing evened out, controlled, deliberate. Panic was useless. Emotion was noise. She filtered it out the way she always did.
Even if her identity had sohow been guessed, she could escape from MoonDrift Club within seconds. She had mapped entrances, exits, blind spots the mont she walked in. The fire exit near the back hallway. The staff-only door behind the bar. The narrow staircase leading to the VIP lounge. Caras—three obvious, one hidden in the corner mirror. Security rotated every twelve minutes.
She didn’t just enter rooms. She dissected them.
For now, she would observe.
Across the low glass table, Julian D’Aurelius sat relaxed, one arm draped over the back of the sofa as if the world had never given him a reason to tense up. The dim gold lights slid across his features, sharpening his jawline, casting shadows beneath calm, unreadable eyes. He looked at ease.
Too at ease.
After all, Julian D’Aurelius was also listed as a target of the Obsidian King.
That fact alone made tonight more than a casual eting.
If he possessed so strange ability...
Her gaze lingered on him, subtle, asuring. Earlier, she had felt sothing—a flicker. A shift in the air when he’d smiled at her. It could have been imagination. Or it could have been sothing else entirely.
That was valuable intelligence.
Julian noticed her watching and tilted his head slightly. "You’ve been quiet," he said, voice smooth but probing. "Regretting agreeing to this little gathering?"
She allowed a faint smile. "I prefer to listen first."
"Dangerous habit," he replied lightly. "Listeners usually know more than they let on."
"And talkers usually reveal more than they intend," she returned, her tone soft but edged.
A flicker moved from one to the other - interest mixed with quiet sizing up. Both stayed locked in place, eyes still fixed.
"Co on, new friends should drink more."
A sudden noise cut through the quiet - Mike speaking up without warning. His hands reached for the costly drink, eager in their grip. The mont bent around his excitent, unaware of what it disturbed.
"Don’t just stare at each other like it’s a staring contest," he laughed. "We’re here to have fun."
Filling each glass with a heavy hand, he let the golden drink spill over the edges. That much was clear - there’d be barely enough left for seconds.
A sideways smile stretched across his face, sharp at the edges.
Well now. Get Big Brother to make her drink too much at first. After that, things just happen on their own.
Might’ve sounded relaxed, but Julian’s words carried sothing sharper beneath. Mike, he called out, slow like syrup pouring. Back off a little now would you
"What? I’m just being hospitable." Mike slid a glass toward her. "Unless you don’t drink?"
Without pausing, she took the glass. If she said no, people might wonder. By taking it, things stayed on her terms.
"I drink," she said evenly. "Just not carelessly."
A small smile tugged at Julian’s mouth just then.
Mike raised his glass high, enthusiasm undimd. "That’s the spirit! To new connections, mysterious ladies, and whatever chaos tonight brings."
A hush fell just before the notes rose. From sowhere close, joy spilled out in loud chuckles. Their skin danced with shifting hues as bulbs blinked above.
A slow sip followed, her gaze still caught on Julian. The light caught the rim of the glass, glinting just as he shifted in his seat. Monts passed without words, only the quiet hum of the room between them.
"Cheers."
A corner of Julian’s mouth lifted, then he brought the glass up. The movent felt stiff, like sothing pulled by strings.
Forks chid as one against the glass. A laugh slipped between them when the toast ended. Light bounced off each rim, sharp and sudden.
Beneath the flickering glow and heavy beat, their gazes found each other once more.
That quiet look on Lina’s face caught Julian’s eye - her lips barely parted, eyes sharp with understanding, a stillness like waiting just under the surface.
This ti, under the lights, he saw himself clear - no longer playing the bad guy who thrives on attention.
Fleeing ca naturally. His heart pounded louder than footsteps behind.
What’s more dangerous than the female lead?
Naturally, it’s the assassins under the protagonist.
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