Once the signal jammer kicked in, the compound's surveillance went down like a flimsy curtain in the wind. Mirabella, trusting the mental blueprint she’d etched into her mind, slipped inside with the grace of a shadow.
A few minutes in, she hit the brakes. Despite guards being posted everywhere, her entry had been way too easy. Something was definitely off.
This place should be on high alert, yet it was as calm as a ghost town. That was definitely fishy. With a gentle flick, she brushed the hair out of her eyes, revealing a gaze that could cut through steel. Clearly, she hadn’t considered all the angles before.
Forget about Nellie for a second—this whole setup felt like someone had marked the calendar for her arrival. If she had to gamble, she’d bet her cover was blown the minute she hit this small town.
Mirabella tilted her head slightly; the corridor behind her lay as empty as a Sunday morning street. Not a whiff of danger or anything amiss, but then—bam!—she spun around, gun in hand.
Crack! A bullet zipped toward the hallway corner, cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter. A muffled grunt followed, shattering the eerie calm.
Whoever was lurking in the shadows hadn’t expected to be found, and they’d just dodged a one-way ticket to the afterlife. Mirabella smirked, ignoring the spooked shadow, and fired at the alarm overhead.
The siren erupted, ripping through the night’s peace like a rock concert in a library.
Meanwhile, Santos had just swiped his card at the base entrance when the alarm blared. Annoyed, he whipped out his phone, dialing up a buddy in security. “What’s the deal? Didn’t I say wait till I got back before doing anything?”
Given Cian’s knack for stealth, there was no way he’d trip the alarm. Must've been the security team. From the control room, the security chief exclaimed, “It wasn’t us!”


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