After Yvette left, Jeremiah and Emmett entered the room. Emmett stood aside, bowing. "Mr. Chavez, everything is ready. We've determined Caleb's schedule. We can act tonight at midnight. Caleb stormed out of the auction yesterday because someone broke into his northern district mansion and stole something."

"He offered a reward—six hundred and sixty thousand dollars—to whoever finds the thief. That's a considerable sum for the locals. Some in Kransbay are eager to move. We haven't identified the culprit, only that it was a man," Emmett added.

Jeremiah nodded, removed his dark green watch—worth over a million dollars—and placed it casually on the table. He stepped onto the balcony adjacent to the bathroom, leaned against the railing, and produced a cigarette and his phone. He lit the cigarette, held it between his index and middle fingers, and smoked, scrolling through his phone with his left hand. "Okay. Go get ready," he said.

Deep into the night, the sky was overcast; stars and moon were hidden. The surroundings were shrouded in darkness.

In the northern mansion district, the night was hazy, buildings looming in shadow. Only a few dim lights pierced the darkness, faintly illuminating indistinct figures within.

In the master bedroom, Caleb lay in bed, sweating profusely, seemingly from a nightmare. He jolted awake. Under the dim nightlight, he glanced at the sleeping woman beside him and wiped his forehead.

Thankfully, it was just a dream, though it felt incredibly real. He had dreamt of being shot between the eyes, dying a horrible death.

Caleb rose to get water. As he slipped on his slippers, he heard a chewing sound. The sound, in the stillness of night, was unnerving. His hair stood on end, his face paling with fear. "Who's there? Come out! Stop playing tricks!"

"Caleb," a voice called.

Caleb slowly turned his head and saw someone sitting on the couch. He couldn't see their face, but they were dressed in black. The voice sounded female.

Hearing a woman's voice, Caleb relaxed slightly. He switched on the large bedside lamp, illuminating the room. He saw the woman clearly.

His eyes widened—she was stunning, alluring yet refined, more beautiful than the woman he'd imprisoned in his basement days ago.

A woman of such beauty, appearing in his mansion in the dead of night, was suspicious. Caleb remained wary. "Who are you? Why are you in my mansion? How did you get in?"

Yvette, dressed in black, sat lazily on the couch, legs crossed, a figure of mystery and menace. Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze cold and defiant. "Do you wish to die by your own hand, or shall I assist you?"

Caleb stared at her, then laughed. "Have you gone mad? You want to kill me? This entire district is my territory! Countless men would tear you apart at my command! Hahaha!"

"Oh? Then proceed. Remember to shout loudly," Yvette replied.

Caleb's laughter ceased. He saw Yvette's calm, mocking expression and sensed something was wrong. His shout should have brought someone, yet silence persisted.

Caleb nudged the sleeping woman beside him. Once. Twice. No response. She was breathing, unconscious. Had everyone in the villa been drugged?

He thought of the woman he’d rescued. Anyone near her would mysteriously faint for seven or eight hours. He was certain this woman and the other were working together. His eyes flashed, his demeanor shifting to ingratiation.

"Miss, I don't know who you are, but if you're here for revenge, I can offer you money—gold bars. There's a safe with gold bars. Take it all. I didn't harm her. No deep grudge, right? Take the gold and leave. Let's pretend this never happened," Caleb offered.

Secretly, his right hand reached for the gun in his nightstand drawer. His words were a ruse. As he reached, Yvette sent three silver needles into his acupuncture points.

Numbness and pain surged. Caleb gritted his teeth, grabbed the gun, ignoring the growing discomfort. Rage twisted his face. He glared at Yvette with a lecherous gaze.

"Ha, stupid woman. Today's your last day. But if you're clever enough to please me for a few days, I might show mercy," Caleb gloated, imagining selling her to Afria for a hefty price. He laughed louder.

Yvette rubbed her ear, stood, hands in her pockets, looking at him as if he were already dead. "Finished laughing? Then die."

Caleb exploded with fury. He would send her to hell. As he pulled the trigger, his hand wouldn't move. The gun fell.

His body grew cold, wracked with unbearable pain. He trembled uncontrollably, his limbs spasming, agonizing groans escaping his lips. He rolled on the floor, legs kicking, desperately tearing at his shirt. His body arched and collapsed, eyes rolling, horrifying screams escaping.

Yvette stood calmly, expressionless.

With his last strength, Caleb crawled toward her. "Help me… I'll give you… money… anything…" His body slumped, lifeless. His eyes remained wide open.

Caleb never knew what killed him. A notorious Golden Triangle drug lord had died silently in his lover's mansion.

Yvette stepped over him, jumped from the second floor, and checked her watch. The timing was perfect—the others should arrive soon. She thought of Jeremiah’s words, feeling mostly irritation. Love? What was the point? Wouldn't discussing food be better?