Chapter 8
The four kneeling men frowned slightly but didn't rise immediately.
Viper stepped forward, circling Elizabeth with deliberate slowness. His gaze swept over her without an ounce of subtlety, his tone dripping with mockery. "Look at this delicate little thing. Nothing but a hothouse flower. Your first assignment as leader is to teach some guy a lesson? He pissed you off, so you want us to rough him up?"
"Nightfall handles real business. We don't play kiddie games. What makes you think you can lead us? What gives a girl like you the right to order around men who've spent their lives bleeding on the edge of a knife?"
He stopped directly in front of Elizabeth, practically nose-to-nose, his voice laced with vicious provocation. "Is it because you sweet-talked the previous boss into handing over his account? Little girl, Nightfall isn't some toy for you to show off. What we need here is strength, ruthlessness, and someone who can keep the brothers alive—and living well. Tell me, do you have what it takes?"
In one swift motion, Viper yanked a pistol from the back of his waistband and pressed it against Elizabeth's forehead. His smile never wavered, but his eyes turned ice-cold and murderous. "How about we test whether this pampered princess has the guts to match that mouth of hers? If you still think you're fit to be our boss, go ahead—nod."
"Though I can't guarantee your pretty little head won't splatter all over this floor when you do."
The atmosphere in the warehouse went from tense to suffocating in a heartbeat.
The four kneeling men snapped their heads up. Ray even started to rise instinctively, but Blade stopped him with a sharp look.
They all wanted to see how this sudden heir would handle the threat.
Elizabeth stared down the barrel inches from her face. Not a flicker of panic crossed her features. Her expression didn't even shift.
In her past life, Henry had degraded her in far more humiliating ways. She'd stared death in the face before. This little power play?
She simply gazed at Viper with a knowing glint of mockery in her eyes, as if to say: Of course it's you.
Just as Viper thought he'd scared her speechless—his sneer growing wider—
Elizabeth moved.
She twisted her head to dodge the gun barrel, simultaneously raising her own pistol. Lifted, aimed, pulled the trigger—three movements executed in a split second, fluid as if she'd rehearsed them a thousand times.
She'd been waiting for this. The perfect excuse to eliminate a traitor and establish her authority in front of everyone.
A sharp crack of gunfire exploded through the warehouse.
The bullet punched clean through Viper's forehead, leaving a small, neat hole between his brows.
His mocking grin froze solid. His pupils dilated with shock and disbelief.
He clearly hadn't expected this girl—this supposed trophy heir—to be this decisive, this ruthless.
Viper had only meant to intimidate Elizabeth, scare her into taking a payoff and living a comfortable, quiet life. He never imagined she'd choose to end him instead.
His gun dropped uselessly from his grip. His body swayed, then toppled backward like felled timber, hitting the concrete with a dull thud.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
Elizabeth slowly lowered her gun, a thin wisp of smoke curling from the barrel.
She didn't spare the corpse at her feet a single glance. Her calm gaze swept over the four men still kneeling before her—their faces now painted with shock and awe.
The warehouse fell deathly silent, save for the mournful whistle of sea wind through broken windows.
Elizabeth's cold stare pinned them in place. "Now. Anyone else have questions?"
Inside the warehouse, the gunshot's echo still hung in the air as the metallic scent of blood began to spread.
Ray, Lynx, Blade, and Uri remained on one knee, heads bowed even lower now, their postures radiating newfound respect.
Elizabeth's ruthless shot hadn't just eliminated a traitor—it had shattered whatever lingering doubts they'd harbored about her age and background.
These men were seasoned professionals. They could tell Elizabeth knew her way around a gun, and her display of steel had earned their approval.
Of course, Elizabeth wasn't some legendary sharpshooter. But they'd been deceived by her appearance, caught off guard by her lack of pretense. Now that she'd shown her fangs, it was more than enough to command their respect.
"Boss!" Ray was the first to speak, his voice booming with conviction. "Ray pledges his life to you!"
Lynx lifted his head, eyes gleaming with excitement and reverence. "Lynx is yours to command!"
Blade remained silent but gave a firm nod, his gaze saying everything.
Uri adjusted his glasses, a hint of fervor creeping into his tone. "Boss, your orders are my highest priority."
Elizabeth nodded slightly, about to speak—
Suddenly, a cacophony of footsteps and crude shouting erupted outside the warehouse.
"The hell? Did that gunshot come from in here?"
"Let's check it out! Which dumbass is packing heat on our turf?"
The rusted warehouse door was kicked open with brutal force. Thirty-plus thugs armed with clubs, machetes, and a few old-school pistols poured inside, instantly surrounding Elizabeth and her four.
Leading the pack was a hulking brute with a nasty scar slashing across his face. When he scanned the scene—especially Viper's corpse on the floor—he paused, then broke into a savage grin.
"Internal drama? Perfect. Saves me the trouble of doing it myself! And there's a girl? Grab her. We'll have some fun back at base."
The Nightfall four instantly shifted into combat mode. Ray and Blade positioned themselves protectively in front of Elizabeth while Lynx and Uri sought cover.
The enemy outnumbered them six-to-one. The odds were brutal.
Yet Elizabeth's expression remained utterly calm.
"Ray. Left pillar, two o'clock. Armed target."
"Lynx. Top of the right shelving unit. Suppress their firepower."
"Blade. You're with me. Clear the front."
"Uri. Jam their communications. Lock down the exits."
Her voice cut through the chaos—clear, cold, rapid-fire. Every command struck at the enemy's weak points and key players with surgical precision.
The Nightfall four hesitated for only a fraction of a second before executing without question.
Ray fired first. The gunman Elizabeth had called out dropped instantly.
Lynx scaled the cargo shelves with feline grace, his submachine gun spitting fire and pinning down the enemies trying to rush from the right flank.
Blade and Elizabeth moved as one. Elizabeth's first two shots dropped the lead knife-wielders with bullets between their eyes. They collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
Her gunwork was fast, accurate, lethal—with no hesitation whatsoever.
The nausea that plagued first-time killers never touched her. Elizabeth had long since grown accustomed to the taste of blood.
Blade's blade carved cold arcs through the dim light, silently opening the throats of anyone who got too close.
Uri's fingers flew across his portable device. A jamming signal went live—every phone in the warehouse lost connection. Simultaneously, the warehouse's only exit slammed shut with a heavy mechanical lock.
The fight was virtually one-sided from the start.