Katherine’s POV The cold night air slid over my bare back like a warning. My heels sank into the thick red carpet that stretched toward the massive marble entrance of the venue. The building glowed in gold light, chandeliers spilling their brilliance across the crowd. Laughter floated in the air, polite and expensive, the kind of sound people made when they were surrounded by money and wanted everyone to know they belonged here. Elijah walked beside me, his palm resting lightly against my lower back. A territorial touch. I caught the small flex of his jaw as his eyes scanned the crowd—not for beauty, not for admiration, but for threats. He was hunting while looking like the prize. My mask covered half my face, black and sharp-edged, letting only my lips and jawline show. I knew how I looked—danger in red silk, walking sin in black heels. And I knew every pair of male eyes followed me because of it. We stepped inside, and the sound doubled—music, chatter, the clinking of glasses.
Katherine pov .... The makeup girl dabbed the last touch of highlighter on my cheekbone, but I’d already tuned her out. My hand reached for the lipstick instead—deep wine red. I dragged it across my lips slowly, deliberately, my reflection staring back at me from the mirror. I tilted my head. The reddish-brown contact lenses caught the light. Normally I’d go for green—cold, lethal, beautiful in a way that unsettles men—but tonight… tonight the eyes staring back at me burned warmer, almost dangerous in a different way. The short blood-red dress hugged my body like a second skin, scandalously backless, dipping low enough to make even women turn around. Every curve was exactly where it needed to be. The heels—black, delicate, perfectly balanced—were light enough for running, heavy enough to crush a man’s windpipe if necessary. It was almost as if Elijah had read my mind. Or maybe… he was baiting me. But something was missing. My knives. I turned, eyes sliding toward the two guards
Katherine pov .. "I planned it all," Klaus announced with that stupid, smug grin plastered across his face-like he thought he was a genius ,his mouth twitching into a dangerous smirk. I stared at him. Tall, broad-shouldered, a walking idiot in a thousand-dollar suit. I smiled. "Congrats," I drawled, stepping forward just slightly, my fingers playing with the edge of the knife . "You planned it all? Too bad your brain couldn't plan for this." Before he could blink, in one quick motion, the blade in the air left my fingers like a whisper of death. It sliced through the side of his cheek-clean, sharp, leaving a trail of blood like a red warning. He flinched, hands instinctively rising to his face before the knife embedded itself straight between the eyes of the guard behind him . The body dropped with a thud . The silence that followed was heavy. Deadly. I turned my back on him without fear. But Klaus's voice rang out immediately, sharp as gunfire. "Catch her. Bri
Elijah’s POV The office was spotless. The chandelier glittered. The blood was gone. Like nothing ever happened. But I could still feel her. Her scream. Her struggle. Her eyes —? Klaus was already pacing. He snapped something sharp in Russian. “Why the hell would you want the ghost knife? I'm the reason she was at the party in the first place.” “She’s a loose thread,” I replied coolly, sitting at the desk. “I trick her in to finish her off. But first, I need to know who sent her.” Klaus slammed his palm on the table, fury in his voice. He's never the type to calm down “She’s not going to die, Elijah. From now on, not a single drop of blood touches her skin — or I’ll burn your entire operation.” I stared at him, unblinking. “You think I’m afraid?” I stood. “I know you too well, Klaus. I know what you do when you’re angry. So leave. Now!. You’re not welcome here anymore.” His jaw clenched. “The next time you walk in here,” I warned, voice low and venomous, “I’ll t
Katherine's POV Pain. Blinding. Hot. Persistent. It was the first thing I felt as my eyes blinked open — not the cut on my arm, but the searing light aimed straight at my face, pinning me like prey. The room was silent, except for the faint buzzing of a faulty bulb somewhere behind the blinding beam. My vision blurred, but slowly cleared. Chains. My hands were bound in cold metal, bolted tight to the back of the wooden chair. My legs, tied cruelly with thick ropes, ached from being bent too long. My body… almost bare — stripped down to black lace panties and bra. My weapons gone. My pride ??..still intact. Were they scared of me ? I tilted my head back, ignoring the sharp sting of the bullet graze on my upper arm. I couldn't see the room clearly, but I could feel it — concrete walls, damp floors and faulty bulb . They called me Ghost Knife. But no ghost stays chained. My breathing steadied, cold and calculated. I shifted in my seat slightly, testing the flexibility i
Katherine pov. "It’s all clear” a voice says through the wire in my ear, low and steady. " Okay " I step out of the sleek black van, one stiletto heel at a time, and onto the gravel leading to the massive estate ahead — the kind of place where men drink blood-red wine and speak in codes before pulling the trigger. I was never invited to this grand mafia gathering — but that’s the point. I never wait for an invitation.That’s what my people are for.They handled it. Just like always.Now it’s time for me to do what I do best.Tonight, I’m not Katherine. I’m whoever they want to see. Since my identity will always be unknown, I'm wearing a red wig, short and wild.A nose ring that glints under the chandelier lights.Thick red lip stick shaped into something dangerous.My face altered — slightly fuller lips, contoured cheekbones. Green-brown contact lenses that make my stare almost inhuman.The slit in my black dress teases up my thigh with every step, high enough to pull a knife