She’d stepped forward just enough to be seen.
That was all it took.Something in me locked cold.
Andrea kept talking, filling the silence.
“Right this way.”
She turned, leading them deeper into the salon.Past the chairs.Past the line of sight from the street.
No one questioned it.They followed.Until we had them right where we needed them.
She reached a side door and slipped through it without breaking pace.She was gone without warning.
The air shifted the second she disappeared as the men looked at each other, momentarily confused.
It was just the opening we needed.
There was sudden movement behind Atlas.It was small, but it was all wrong.
A guard shifted—too fast, the fog of confusion lifting from his mind.
His hand came up, a gun pointed in Atlas’s direction.
I saw it.So did she.
Tone moved first.Her heel came off in one clean motion—arm snapping forward, controlled, precise.The stiletto cut the air and hit precisely where she meant it to.
Straight through his eye.It lodged there, deep, he screamed—raw, uncontrolled—as his body jerked back, grip collapsing.
His finger spasmed on the trigger.The shot went wild.
The ceiling blew out.Plaster dropped in chunks, dusting us all in a fine film of white powder.
Then all hell broke loose.
I was already moving.The man closest to me turned too late.
My hand locked onto his wrist—his weapon arm—twisting hard, forcing the barrel off line as he fired.
The shot shattered the mirror behind me.Glass burst outward.
He tried to pull back, but he was too slow.
My elbow drove into his throat, hard enough to feel it give.
His breath cut off.
I stepped in, closing the space between us, not letting him reset.
My other hand caught his jaw and drove his head down into the counter.
Once.There was a sharp crack.Twice.I heard bone split.
Blood spread across the surface, slick and immediate.
His body started to drop like dead weight and I shifted my grip, my arms sliding around his neck.I applied pressure and twisted, breaking his neck.
I moved, because this wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot.
