Fiona moved gracefully through the luxurious halls of the mansion, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors. She had barely reached the grand staircase when she saw him.
"Mr. Jaxon," Fiona said, her voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at her insides. She stopped in her tracks, fixing her gaze on the man who had been a constant shadow in her life.
Mr. Jaxon, flanked by his ten loyal men. The air around him seemed to crackle with authority. He was a figure of imposing calm, his dark eyes never betraying his thoughts. He didn't bother turning to look at her, his attention remained fixed ahead, as if she were merely an afterthought.
"Fiona," he acknowledged, "You've been gone for quite a while. Where have you been?"
She held her breath for a moment, composing herself before replying. "I'm doing some business."
"Business..." Mr. Jaxon repeated, the word rolling off his tongue with a hint of mockery. "So, how's business, Fiona?"
The question hung in the air like a dangerous snare. Fiona could feel the eyes of his men on her, their expressions unreadable behind the stoic masks they wore. She struggled to keep her face impassive, to hide the flicker of doubt that his words had sparked.
Before she could formulate a response, the sharp crack of a gunshot split the air. Fiona instinctively flinched, feeling the rush of air as the bullet whizzed past her, embedding itself in the wall just inches from her head. The scent of gunpowder lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the lethal game they were playing.
But Fiona was no stranger to danger. Her face remained a mask of icy calm, her eyes locking onto Mr. Jaxon. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
They stood there in silence. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, Mr. Jaxon's gun remained aimed at her.
Minutes passed, the silence thick and suffocating. Fiona's mind raced, calculating her next move, while Mr. Jaxon seemed content to let the moment stretch, testing her resolve. They were locked in a battle of wills, each waiting for the other to falter, to blink first.
She smirked, a hint of books disobedience flickering in her eyes. Mr. Jaxon’s face twisted with irritation, his normally composed demeanor faltering.
"You know, Fiona," he began, his voice low and menacing, "that I hate being betrayed."
Fiona’s smirk widened into a full-blown smile, "You hate it, yet you do the same," she replied.
As if on cue, two loud noise of gunshots shattered the tense silence, repeated through the halls. Mr. Jaxon spun around, his eyes widening in shock as he saw two of his men crumple to the floor, their lifeless bodies pooling blood onto the pristine marble.
In that fleeting moment of distraction, Fiona seized her chance. With a burst of adrenaline, she lunged at Mr. Jaxon. The room erupted into chaos as Eric, Christoff, and the remaining men engaged in a uncontrolled exchange of gunfire. Bullets glancing rebounds off the walls, and the air grew thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder.
Mr. Jaxon staggered, momentarily off balance, but his eyes never left Fiona.
"Are you siding with them?" he spat, his voice a mix of disbelief and rage. "Have you forgotten that they're the reason your brother is dead?"
Fiona’s heart pounded in her chest, memories of her brother’s lifeless form flashing before her eyes. But she steeled herself, her resolve hardening.
"I haven’t forgotten," she said, "But I’ve also learned the truth about you, Jaxon. And I won’t let you manipulate me any longer."
Their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills, as the gunfire continued around them.
Their eyes remained locked, the intensity of their mutual hatred palpable in the air. Fiona's body step a small little, ready to strike. Mr. Jaxon smirked, a cruel, knowing expression that made her blood boil.
"You think you can take me down, little girl?" he taunted.
Fiona didn't respond with words; she let her actions speak. She launched herself at him with a flurry of punches and kicks, each movement precise. For a moment, it seemed she had the upper hand. Her blows landed with satisfying thuds, and Mr. Jaxon grunted in pain.
But Mr. Jaxon was no ordinary opponent. Despite his age and seemingly soft appearance, his reflexes were honed from years of combat. He blocked her strikes with a practiced ease, countering with brutal efficiency. His fists were like sledgehammers, each impact driving Fiona back, making her vision blur with pain.
She fought valiantly, using every ounce of her speed and agility to stay in the fight. Her movements were a dance of desperation and determination, but Mr. Jaxon's strength was overwhelming. He caught her wrist mid-punch, twisting it painfully and forcing her to her knees.
"You're strong, Fiona," he admitted, his breath coming in harsh. "But strength alone isn't enough."
With a savage twist, he sent her sprawling to the floor. Fiona gasped, struggling to breathe as she hit the cold marble. Her vision swam, but she forced herself to get up, pushing past the pain. She had to keep fighting, had to keep trying.
But Mr. Jaxon was relentless. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet. "This ends now. You were always destined to lose"
"He died because he was always with you. I know you only care about yourself," Fiona spat out, her voice trembling with anger and pain.
"It's not my fault your brother was an idiot. If he'd just shot Eric instead of taking the bullet, he'd still be alive, and that stupid Eric would be dead!" Mr. Jaxon retorted, his voice a cold, sharp blade cutting through the tension-filled air. He stood tall, his dark eyes entirely lacking of any remorse, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.
"Idiot!? If it weren't for him, you'd be dead by now!" Fiona screamed, her voice cracking. She lunged at him, driven by a surge of raw, unfiltered emotion. Her fists pounded against his chest, but he barely flinched. He was much stronger, his frame solid and imposing.
Mr. Jaxon easily overpowered her, grabbing her wrists and twisting them behind her back. Fiona winced, a pained gasp escaping her lips as he forced her to her knees.
"What a waste, Fiona. You and your brother, both idiots," he sneered, his breath hot against her ear.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he threw her to the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs, and she lay there, dazed and hurting. Mr. Jaxon picked up the gun from the floor, its cold, lethal weight resting easily in his hand. He aimed it at Fiona, his finger curling around the trigger.
Unexpectedly, someone shot Mr. Jaxon's arm, causing him to drop the gun. When they turned, they saw Axel.
Then, a sudden, sharp crack shattered the air. Mr. Jaxon cried out, the gun slipping from his grasp as he clutched his arm, blood leak slowly through his fingers. Fiona turned her head, her heart pounding wildly, and saw Axel standing in the doorway. His face was a mask of calm determination, the gun in his hand still smoking from the shot.
"Axel!" Fiona gasped, a flood of relief washing over her.
Axel approached Fiona, his expression softening as he reached her side. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle murmur amidst the chaos.
Mr. Jaxon burst out of the grand mansion, his hand clutching a bloody wound on his arm, yet he seemed unable to be affected to the pain.
Inside, Eric's heart pounded with desperation. He wanted nothing more than to chase after Mr. Jaxon, to bring him down and end this madness once and for all. But his path was blocked. Mr. Jaxon's men, fierce and unyielding, stood like a wall between him and his target. There were six of them, each one as disciplined as they were ruthless. Eric knew one false move could mean a bullet in his chest.
As Mr. Jaxon fled, Blaze and Mae slipped through the chaos. Eric caught sight of them and felt a flicker of hope ignite in his chest. He turned to Fiona and Axel, his trusted allies in this deadly game. The odds were even now, four against six. It wasn't great, but it was something.
"Fiona! Axel!" Eric's voice cut through the air, sharp and urgent. "We need to take down Jaxon's men! Blaze needs a clear path to follow him! Cover them!"
She nodded, her grip tightening on her weapon. Axel cracked his knuckles, his face a mask of grim resolve. They knew the stakes were high, and failure was not an option.
Mr. Jaxon had just stepped out of the mansion, his eyes darting around, taking in the chaos that unfolded before him. His men were engaged in brutal combat, the placed filled with the sound of gunfire and shouted commands.
Suddenly, the crack of gunshots echoed. Mr. Jaxon remained unfazed, his steely demeanor unbroken. This was all part of the plan. His men, seasoned and loyal, were locked in a fierce battle with undercover agents scattered strategically around the property. His true target was Mae and Blaze, alone. He couldn't afford to lose now, not when he was so close.
"Go," his one of the men urged, his voice barely audible over the middle of the ongoing fight. "We've bought you enough time, Mr. Jaxon."
Without wasting a moment, Mr. Jaxon got into his car and started it. The engine purred to life as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hands steady on the wheel.
Blaze and Mae followed him on a motorcycle.
"What?! Why is there a woman with him?" Darius exclaimed, narrowly dodging a bullet as he glanced over.