Kaliah Starborne’s life had been built on whispers and shadows. At twenty years old, she was already a legend. Known in the underground as Mortifer, the bringer of death, she had executed over five hundred contracts with surgical precision. Each name, a trophy of her efficiency, was etched into her leather-bound notebook—a grim ledger of lives taken. Her latest target was one of her most high-profile assignments yet: Ilian Aerion, the enigmatic and powerful mafia boss of the Aerion Syndicate.
The contract had arrived as a birthday present, tucked inside a sleek black envelope bearing no signature, only the word Ilian. There was no need for introductions—the sender was one of Ilian’s countless enemies, a shadow among shadows, seeking to eliminate the man who had amassed power and loyalty in equal measure.
But this mission wasn’t like the others. Ilian wasn’t a faceless executive or a corrupt politician she could take out with a clean shot from a rooftop perch. To kill him, Kaliah would have to infiltrate his world, earn his trust, and strike when his guard was down. For the first time in her career, Mortifer would need to show her face.
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Sitting in the dim light of her apartment, Kaliah traced the hilt of her custom blade, its cool surface a familiar comfort in her hands. The blade’s edge gleamed faintly, catching the flicker of a single candle burning on the nearby table. The room was sparse, its only decorations the tools of her trade: a sniper rifle dismantled on the counter, a row of blades lined up with military precision, and a small notebook, bound in worn leather, lying open beside her.
Her blue eyes lingered on the latest name scrawled across the page. Ilian Aerion. The letters stared back at her, taunting her with the weight of the task ahead. She wasn’t one to hesitate—hesitation was a weakness—but there was something different about this job. Something that gnawed at the edges of her resolve.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the past. To the life she might have had if Kane hadn’t found her. She’d been barely a year old when Kane Starborne had taken her, plucking her from a life of uncertainty into one of brutal purpose. He had always claimed he saved her, purchasing her from traffickers and giving her a future. But as she grew older, Kaliah began to wonder whether she’d been rescued—or stolen.
Memories of her biological family were fragments at best: a soft lullaby, the warmth of arms that felt safe, the faintest image of a face she couldn’t quite remember. Kane had snuffed out those thoughts early on, conditioning her to focus only on survival and the mission ahead. Yet, in moments like this, when the room was quiet and the candlelight danced in the shadows, those ghosts slipped through the cracks.
“You’re not hesitating, are you?”
Kane’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. He stood in the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. His sharp features and bald head gave him a severe, almost otherworldly appearance, and his piercing gaze pinned her in place.
Kaliah shook her head, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. “No.”
“Good.” Kane stepped closer, reaching out to brush the edge of the dossier on the table. His voice softened, though his tone remained cold. “Ilian Aerion isn’t just another target. He’s sharp, resourceful. He won’t trust easily, and he’ll see through any cracks in your facade. You’ll need to be flawless.”
“I always am,” Kaliah replied, a faint edge of confidence in her voice. Her eyes met his, steady and unyielding. “He’ll be dead within a month.”
For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in Kane’s expression—pride, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it came. He nodded, stepping back into the shadows. “Good. Don’t make me regret trusting you with this.”
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The journey to Eldryn City, Ilian’s stronghold, gave Kaliah time to prepare—not just logistically, but mentally. She let the persona of Clarke Reid, a high-level corporate consultant, settle over her like armor. The details of her fabricated identity were meticulous, from a résumé brimming with Ivy League credentials to a curated trail of successful business ventures. Kane had insisted on perfection, and Kaliah had delivered.
Her cover was designed to appeal to Ilian’s sensibilities: someone ambitious, intelligent, and capable of navigating the delicate web of power and influence that defined his world. She rehearsed every line, every gesture, until they felt natural. Clarke Reid wasn’t a mask—she was a version of Kaliah herself, honed and polished to fit the role.
As the city skyline came into view, Kaliah’s thoughts turned to Ilian. The dossier had painted a picture of a man both ruthless and loyal, a tactician who inspired fear and respect in equal measure. His gray eyes stared back at her from the photograph she’d studied countless times, their intensity almost palpable even on paper.
Unlike the corrupt politicians and careless crime lords she’d dealt with before, Ilian represented something more formidable. He was methodical, strategic, and fiercely protective of those who served him. Taking him down wouldn’t just require precision—it would require understanding.
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Eldryn City was a study in contrasts. The streets buzzed with life, a chaotic blend of luxury and decay. The Aerion Syndicate’s influence was everywhere, from the glitzy clubs to the shadowed alleys where deals were made and debts were collected. Kaliah moved through the crowd like a shadow, her hood pulled low as she observed her new territory.
Her destination loomed ahead: the Syndicate’s headquarters, a towering high-rise that masked its criminal enterprise behind the facade of a legitimate corporation. She paused outside, her pulse steady as she prepared to take her first step into Ilian’s world.
Kacey’s voice crackled through her earpiece. “You good, Kay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone even. Kacey had always been her anchor, the only person who truly understood her. He’d been by her side since they were children, trained by Kane to be a pair of deadly instruments. While Kane was the strategist, Kacey was the one who reminded her that she was human.
“Stay safe,” Kacey said, his voice softer now. “You’ve got this.”
She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the worn metal star he’d given her years ago—a token etched with the word Hope. It was a small, almost ironic reminder of a life she could never have. But it grounded her all the same.
With one last glance at the high-rise, Kaliah straightened her shoulders and stepped inside. The mission had begun, and Mortifer was ready to meet the shadows head-on.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpYadx6ku6g
