Chapter 11:
Spencer's POV
The following night…
Livanos's penthouse was a monument to his own insecurity—all cold marble, floor-to-ceiling windows, and art that was expensive but had no soul. We found him in his study, a glass of my father's favorite whiskey in his hand, boasting to his visibly pregnant girlfriend about a deal he'd stolen from me.
He didn't see me until I was standing right over his desk. The color drained from his face. "Spencer! What a… surprise."
The surprise was nothing compared to what happened next.
A butcher's knife materialized from the empty air and, with a sickening thwack, drove straight through his palm, pinning it to the polished mahogany table.
He screamed, a raw, animalistic sound of pure agony. His girlfriend shrieked from the corner, her hands flying to her mouth.
I calmly pulled a chair and sat in front of him, letting out a pitying sigh. "So bad," I clucked my tongue. "Now, tell me. Why did you send assassins to kill me? Twice in one night?"
Livanos—the man who smiled at my back while his envy festered—was now sobbing, his body trembling. "I... I... I didn't send anybody after your life! I swear!"
"Wednesday, deeper," I called out, my voice cold.
His eyes bulged in utter terror as the butcher's knife twisted and sank deeper into his flesh on its own. A fresh, piercing scream tore from his throat. "What did you bring to my house?!" he stammered, his eyes darting around the empty space around the knife.
"Someone that will make you speak," I said, leaning forward, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Now tell me. Why on earth did you send assassins to kill me?"
"I swear on my unborn child and my girlfriend!" he cried, tears and snot streaming down his face. "I didn't send any assassin to your apartment!"
I stood up, my gaze narrowing. His terror was too visceral, too complete to be a lie. A cold knot of dread tightened in my stomach. If Livanos didn't, then who did?
"Spencer, down! NOW!" Wednesday's voice was a sharp command in my mind.
I dropped to the floor without a second's hesitation.
The window behind me exploded inwards as a high-caliber bullet whizzed through the space my head had just occupied. It flew across the room and struck its unintended target with a horrific, final sound.
Thud.
Livanos's girlfriend was thrown back against the wall, a perfect, bloody hole blossoming in the center of her forehead. Her eyes, wide with shock, stared into nothingness.
"OMG!!! NOOOO!!" Livanos's cry was a heartbroken wail, a sound of pure, shattered despair.
Then, all hell broke loose.
Wednesday yanked the dagger from his ruined hand. "Spencer, let's get out of here!" she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos.
But it was too late. A hailstorm of gunfire erupted from outside. The penthouse windows shattered one after another, bullets chewing through the furniture, the art, the very walls. I hit the deck, crawling frantically as the world turned into a storm of flying glass and splintering wood.
Livanos, still standing at his spot by shock and grief, was fired with bullets. His body jerked violently wiith each impact until he slumped over, motionless, his lifeless eyes fixed on his dead lover.
Am I placed on a daily death sentence? The thought was a silent scream in my head.
I crawled towards the door. "Why don't you go out there and fight them off?" I said to Wednesday.
"I'm trying to save you from dying first, so follow me!" she snapped back, her form flickering with intensity.
"Okay, yes! Thank you!" I replied, the absurdity of the moment not lost on me.
She pulled me to my feet, and we bolted into the main hall, only to be met by a masked assassin descending the grand staircase, his assault rifle raised.
Oh, shit.
From behind me, I heard the metallic slither of a chain unwrapping. The assassin froze mid-step, his eyes locked in disbelief on the butcher's knife materializing from thin air.
Shock was etched on his face, but his training took over. He started to raise the rifle.
It was the last thing he ever did.
The knife swayed once and shot forward like a striking serpent, embedding itself deep into his temple with a sickening crunch. The force slammed him back against the wall. With a sharp tug, Wednesday pulled the blade free, and he crumpled to the floor.
I looked at her, genuinely impressed despite the terror. "I forgot to ask," I panted as we sprinted up the three-story staircase. "Where on earth, or hell, did you get that butcher's knife and chain?"
"Why do you seem to care?" she retorted, effortlessly phasing through a step ahead of me.
"Because it's the only unique weapon you use! I mean, it's something other people can see!"
"It's totally none of your business," she stated, not even bothering to look back.
I scoffed but didn't press further. I looked up just in time to see the same knife pull itself out of another assassin's skull at the top of the stairs. His body tumbled down past me, and I had to press myself against the wall to avoid it.
Wednesday was already at the top, calmly rolling up her chain. She gestured impatiently for me to hurry.
How did she even get there? Oh... right. I forgot. She's dead.
We burst into a lavish bedroom and rushed out onto a wide balcony. I ran to the railing and looked over. The ground was a dizzying three stories below. The only potential salvation was a shimmering, blue-tiled swimming pool.
Wednesday bolted the flimsy balcony door and turned to me, crossing her arms. "You don't expect me to jump this, do you?" I asked, my voice tight with panic.
She smiled, a faint, amused curve of her lips. "Well, you are the only one jumping. I can be down there in no second."
"Because you are dead!" I said, emphasizing the word to highlight the sheer insanity of her suggestion.
She simply shrugged.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The door shuddered violently under the impact of bullets and heavy blows. The wood began to splinter. They were almost through.
My heart hammered against my ribs. It was either the bullets or the fall.
"OKAY, I'M JUMPING!" I yelled, my decision made.
I took a running start, launched myself over the railing, and a wide, involuntary scream was ripped from my lungs as I plummeted into the open air.
"This nigga is crazy!" I heard Wednesday say from the balcony above, her voice the last thing I heard before the wind roared in my ears....
To be continued....