NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Aurora leaned casually against the wall in the dimly lit warehouse, flipping a knife in her hand as she stared at the man dangled from a chain in the center of the room, his face battered and bruised.
The sound of the mint gum she was chewing sends shivers down his spine.
"You're going to tell me what I need to know. I do hate repeating myself," she said, her tone calm but laced with the promise of violence.
"I don't know anything!" the man sputtered, panic in his eyes.
Aurora's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wrong answer. You and I know that's the wrong answer."
With a flick of her wrist, the knife sailed through the air, embedding itself in the wall inches from his ear.
With a flick of her wrist, the knife sailed through the air, embedding itself in the wall inches from his ear. The man yelped, his defiance crumbling under her unyielding gaze.
"Alright, alright!" he cried. "I'll talk! Just don't kill me!"
"You don't tell me what to do," she said, stepping closer. " Start talking".
For Aurora, this was just another day on the job. By the time the sun rose, she was back in her downtown apartment, blending seamlessly into the world of normalcy. To her neighbors, she was Aurora Sage, the quiet owner of an antique shop with an eye for rare artifacts, but beneath the facade was Aura, a five-star assassin, feared and untouchable. Her list of successful missions reads like a legend in the underworld, and her name alone was enough to make even the boldest criminals reconsider their choices.
Her phone buzzed as she poured herself a cup of black coffee.
NEW TARGET: CARLOS MORETTI
FEE: $ 15 MILLION
DEADLINE:48 HOURS
Carlos Moretti. The name sent a ripple of excitement through her. The mafia lord had been a thorn in the side of many powerful figures, but no one had managed to take him down. Until now.
The day passed uneventfully until late afternoon when Aurora returned to her antique shop. Business was slow, as usual, but that was how she liked it, quiet and undemanding.
As she rearranged a display of vintage clocks, a customer entered. She didn't look up immediately but her instincts tingled. Something was off. The person's steps are quiet and practiced.
"Looking for something specific?" Aurora asked without turning.
"No," a man's voice replied. "Just browsing."
Her sharp gaze flicked to the reflection in the glass cabinet. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and far too attentive for someone "just browsing."
"Okay. Take your time," she said, her tone pleasant but cold.
A second customer entered, followed by a third. They fanned out across the small shop, but their movements were calculated to Aurora.
Aurora's lips twitched into a smirk. "Really? In broad daylight? Do you have a death wish?"
The men froze, obviously surprised she caught them. The one nearest to her lunged, but Aurora sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing an antique and smashing it across his head.
In a matter of seconds, the shop descended into chaos. Aurora moved like a dancer, her movements fluid and precise. One by one, the men fell, their attempts to overpower her laughable against her years of training.
When the last man hit the floor, groaning in pain, Aurora crouched beside him, grabbing his hair, her knife glinting in the dim light.
"Thanks to you guys, I had a little fun. Who sent you?" she asked, her voice icy.
He whimpered, clutching his broken arm. "I don't know his name! He just wanted to know if Aura was still in the city!"
Aurora's eyes narrowed. Someone was hunting her.
That night, Aurora sat on the roof of her apartment building, the city sprawling beneath her. Her encrypted laptop hummed softly, a message blinking on the screen:
Be careful, Aura. You're being watched.
She closed the laptop with a snap, her jaws tightening. The warning is useless to her, she had enemies in every corner of the world, so it's not bad to add to it. But the timing couldn't be ignored. Whoever had sent those men that tried to attack her wasn't Carlos Moretti.
As if to confirm her suspicions, her phone buzzed again:
Carlos Moretti was spotted at The Azure Club. Tonight's your best shot. Approach with caution.
Aurora's lips curled into a dangerous smile. Caution wasn't her style or in her dictionary.
She downed her gear, her black suit hugging her like her second skin. Weapons are concealed but easily accessible. She headed into the night, ready to complete her mission, with her portable signature dagger. With the initials AURA boldly written on it.
The Azure Club was a fortress disguised as luxury; it was a hub for politicians, businessmen, and criminals alike.
Aurora bypassed the main entrance, scaling the side of the building with the agility of a panther.
Her target was in the V.I.P. room on the top floor, guided by men who thought guns could save them. She smirked, pitying their ignorance.
As she moved closer to the private room, voices drifted through the hallway. She paused, her Sharp ears catching snippets of the conversation.
As she moved closer, voices drifted through the hallway. She paused, her sharp ears catching snippets of conversation.
"...he humiliated me, your younger sister, in front of everyone! You must do something about this! I won't let him get away!"
"You're too emotional," a deep voice said.
"Emotional? Him humiliating me is just like he's humiliating you! You must kill him for disrespecting us!". The woman shouted while crying, the tears were fake.
"So, I should kill him because he rejected you?"
"He deserves it." The woman replied with a muffled voice.
Aurora's eyes narrowed. This is none of her business, but the name that followed caught her attention.
"Fine. No one disrespects the Moretti family and goes scot-free. Logan Mason won't live to see the end of the week."
Aurora froze trying to process the name. Logan Mason? Isn't that the country's beloved celebrity and model? What could he have done to land himself on Moretti's rader?
For now, she tucked the information away, Logan Mason wasn't her concern.
She pressed herself against the wall as the door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out. His face was shadowed, but the aura of danger around him was unmistakable. Carlos Moretti.
Aurora's smirk returned. "Hey cutie, gotcha."
As she prepared to strike, a low, raspy voice whispered in her earpiece
"Aura, get out of there. It's a fucking trap."
Her blood ran cold.