Chapter 6
Viper looked at the four people before him, their opinions almost unanimously aligned, and resentment simmered beneath his skin. Still, his face twisted into a mask of reluctant acceptance. "Alright. Since everyone feels this way."
He paused, letting the weight settle. "Then the priority is finding this mysterious Noel. Uri, use every resource at your disposal—analyze the mission intel, hunt down any possible leads. Lynx, your intelligence network is crucial here. Screen everyone potentially connected to Mr. Noah's line of succession. Ray, Blade, stay ready. The second we lock onto a target, we move."
"Yes!" The four responded in unison, immediately springing into action.
Viper watched their retreating figures, his expression gradually darkening.
He'd spent years building his position, painstakingly waiting for the boss's death to consolidate Nightfall's power into his own hands. Like hell he'd let some random heir swoop in and undo everything.
Whoever this Noel was, they had to be found.
A cold smile twisted his lips. Once found, whether to pledge loyalty or eliminate the threat—that decision wouldn't be anyone else's to make.
Elizabeth had barely stepped through the Windsor family's front door when the suffocating atmosphere hit her like a physical force.
In the living room, Charles occupied the main seat on the sofa, his face stormy. Sophie sat beside him, wearing that familiar expression of concern mixed with hesitation.
Vivian stood off to the side, her eyes rimmed red like she'd been crying.
"You actually decided to come home?" Charles's voice carried suppressed fury as he glared at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth didn't break stride, her expression neutral as she headed for the stairs, as if she hadn't heard a word.
"Stop right there!" Charles's voice shot up several decibels. "These past few days, you've been leaving early and coming home late—where the hell have you been? Did you sneak off to see Henry again? Let me remind you, the engagement to the Smith family is set in stone. I won't tolerate your rebellion!"
Only then did Elizabeth pause, slowly turning to face them. Her gaze swept over all three before settling on Charles, carrying a hint of barely concealed mockery.
Vivian immediately seized the opportunity, stepping forward with tears threatening to spill. "Elizabeth, I know you're hurting inside. You don't want to marry someone like Mr. Smith, but you can't just sneak out to meet Henry! If Mr. Smith finds out, how will the Windsor family explain this? Dad's only worried about you, afraid you'll make a mistake you can't take back."
Sophie chimed in with a well-timed sigh. "Elizabeth, a young woman's reputation is everything. You can't be so reckless."
Elizabeth watched their pathetic performance, cold amusement flickering in her chest. These were her people—her father, her childhood friend, and dear Sophie.
After Hughes died, all these people seemed to have changed.
"I didn't go see him." Elizabeth thought of the hit she'd placed, careful not to show too much resentment toward Henry. When something happened to him, she couldn't be the first suspect. "Dad, think about it—now that I'm Mr. Smith's fiancée, what man would dare meet me?"
Charles's brow furrowed deeply, clearly not convinced. "Then what have you been doing all this time? Don't think you can fool me!"
Elizabeth had anticipated this question. Her expression remained unchanged. "What else would I be doing? Mr. Smith asked to see me."
Charles froze, suspicion deepening in his eyes. "Jacob? He asked to see you? When? Where?"
It was shocking enough that Jacob wanted to marry Elizabeth for whatever mysterious reason. Now he was meeting with her daily?
Could Jacob actually have fallen for his beautiful but supposedly empty-headed daughter at first sight?
For the first time, Charles looked at Elizabeth through a man's appraising eye and realized she truly was uniquely beautiful. She resembled his late wife, which was precisely why he'd never liked her.
"No fixed times or locations." Elizabeth handled the interrogation smoothly, deliberately showing a hint of impatience. "Someone like him doesn't exactly file reports with you. He just sends someone to pick me up, and I spend time at his place."
"His place?" Charles pressed, trying to catch her in a lie. "What's it like?"
Elizabeth's mind flashed to that dark room, that glimpse of an overwhelming presence. She frowned as she described it. "The space is huge. Empty. No unnecessary furnishings. He has this..."
She paused, as if recalling details. "Heavy smell of smoke on him. And ink-black tattoos running from his back down to his arms. Pretty intimidating, actually."
The details she described—especially about the tattoos and dim environments—matched almost perfectly with the scattered information Charles had managed to gather about Jacob through various channels. He knew Jacob had tattoos and operated in secrecy, avoiding public exposure.
The fury on Charles's face gradually morphed into something between shock and calculation.
He studied Elizabeth—that mix of resignation, irritation, and underlying fear on her face didn't seem fake.
If this were true, then this marriage alliance was worth far more than he'd initially estimated!
The storm clouds cleared from Charles's face instantly, replaced by something almost resembling warmth. "I see. Elizabeth, why didn't you say so earlier? Mr. Smith asking to see you is a good thing—it means he values you!"
He completely reversed course. "From now on, whenever Mr. Smith wants to meet, you go. The family won't stand in your way. Just maintain some propriety—you're not officially married yet."
Both Vivian and Sophie looked blindsided. They hadn't expected Elizabeth to not only clear herself with a few sentences but also to improve her standing with Charles.
"Dad!" Vivian protested.
"Enough!" Charles cut her off, his tone sharp with impatience. "Elizabeth is working for the Windsor family's future. Stop your baseless accusations."
He turned back to Elizabeth, his voice gentle. "If you're tired, go get some rest."
Elizabeth gave a slight nod, not sparing that mother-daughter pair another glance before heading upstairs.
Her phone buzzed against her palm, the screen displaying a string of encrypted code.
Elizabeth stared at the sequence, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.
She knew—her plan had worked.
When she'd posted that hit on Henry with the finger amputation clause, she'd deliberately buried a contact node behind seven layers of encryption in the information stream.
It was a test. A filter. If anyone competent remained inside Nightfall, they'd trace it back to her.
Of course, if they couldn't even manage that much, the organization wasn't worth inheriting.
Apparently, Nightfall hadn't completely rotted from within.
She moved to the window, confirming no one was nearby before accepting the call.
"Noel." A processed electronic voice came through, cutting straight to business. "Instructions executed. Video footage delivered to encrypted storage."
Efficient.
Elizabeth's eyes darkened slightly. "Received."
Her own voice would be processed before transmission, making it impossible to determine gender.
The caller paused for half a second—that brief silence meant they were evaluating her response, confirming her identity.
"Core members request a face-to-face meeting."
Elizabeth didn't hesitate. This was exactly what she wanted. "Time. Location."
The voice provided coordinates for a warehouse in the abandoned port district. One hour from now.
"I'll be there." Elizabeth ended the call immediately.
She stared at the darkened screen, a cold smile curving her lips.
Nightfall, I'was coming.