The Midnight Ball was more than an event.
It was a battlefield.
The elite of the underworld gathered here—billionaires, assassins, arms dealers, and the kings of crime.
And tonight, Ochieng was their guest.
He stepped into the grand ballroom of the Black Lotus Hotel. Chandeliers dripped with gold. Music played softly. Women in silk dresses whispered behind jeweled masks.
Every eye turned to him.
Valeria walked beside him in a sleek black gown.
Amara flanked his other side, her thigh holster hidden beneath her dress.
Lucien Rykov stood at the center, waiting.
And beside him…
A woman.
Draped in midnight blue.
The Black Widow.
Ochieng's lips curled. So, she was here.
The deadliest assassin in the world.
And his first love.
---
Lucien lifted a glass. "Ochieng! You came."
Ochieng smirked. "Wouldn't miss it."
A waiter approached with a tray of drinks.
Ochieng didn't take one.
Neither did Valeria.
Neither did Amara.
Lucien grinned. "Still paranoid?"
Ochieng tilted his head. "Still alive."
The Black Widow stepped forward. "Dance with me."
The room stilled.
Ochieng chuckled. "Is that a request?"
She didn't answer.
She simply turned—expecting him to follow.
He did.
They moved onto the dance floor.
And as they danced, she whispered in his ear—
"There's a price on your head."
---
Ochieng smiled. "How much?"
Her grip tightened. "One billion."
His laughter was low. "Cheap."
She twirled, her voice softer. "They want you dead, Ochieng."
He dipped her back. "And you?"
She looked into his eyes.
For a moment, just a moment—there was something there.
Then—
She slipped a dagger into his palm.
"You have three minutes."
She pulled away.
And as Ochieng turned—
The lights flickered.
A gunshot rang out.
And the ballroom erupted into chaos.
---