The city was quiet, the streets bathed in a dim glow from the streetlights. A cold breeze swept through as Isabel walked toward her apartment, Duke trotting beside her. She was still shaken from the poisoning incident, but Moris had insisted she rest at home while they planned their next move.
She didn't argue. Not because she wasn't scared, but because she was tired of being hunted.
Yet, she had no idea someone was watching her.
From the shadows of a nearby alley, a figure stood motionless—a predator waiting for the perfect moment. The man Sarah had hired, Vincent Crowe, was a professional. He had done jobs like this before. Quick, clean, and untraceable.
But tonight, something felt… off.
The dog.
Vincent had underestimated the beast. Duke was alert, ears perked, sniffing the air with suspicion. He kept close to Isabel, his large frame moving protectively beside her.
Vincent exhaled, adjusting the gloves on his hands. It didn't matter. He had done worse. He had handled security teams, bodyguards—one dog wouldn't make a difference.
He stepped forward.
Isabel stopped. A chill ran down her spine.
"Who's there?" she called out, glancing around. The street was empty, but the weight of unseen eyes pressed down on her.
Duke growled, his fur bristling.
That was enough for Isabel. Her gut screamed at her to move, to get away from this place as fast as possible.
She started walking faster.
Vincent smirked. Perfect. Fear makes people sloppy.
He reached into his pocket, feeling the cool metal of the syringe. Just a quick prick—Isabel wouldn't even have time to scream. By the time someone found her, it would be too late.
But then—
A deep, thunderous snarl erupted.
Vincent barely had time to react before Duke launched at him with terrifying speed.
The dog's jaws snapped inches from his arm, his growls vibrating through the night air. Vincent stumbled back, barely dodging as Duke lunged again, teeth flashing under the streetlights.
"Sh*t!" Vincent cursed. He hadn't expected this much resistance.
Isabel spun around just in time to see a dark figure retreating into the shadows. Her pulse pounded. Someone had been following her.
Duke barked furiously, pacing in front of her, his stance tense and protective.
She wasn't safe.
She grabbed her phone and called Moris.
He picked up immediately. "Isabel?"
"Someone tried to attack me."
A pause. Then, cold fury. "Where are you?"
She gave him her location, voice trembling.
"I'm on my way. Stay put. And don't let anyone near you."
Isabel ended the call, gripping Duke's leash like a lifeline. She had no idea how close she had just come to death.
But she did know one thing.
Sarah was behind this. And this time, Isabel wouldn't just defend herself—she would fight back.
The Hunter Becomes the Hunted
Vincent leaned against a wall in a dark alley, breathing heavily. His arm ached where Duke's teeth had nearly torn through.
That damn dog.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Sarah.
She picked up after one ring. "Is it done?"
Vincent wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not yet. She's got a damn guard dog. Nearly tore my arm off."
Silence.
Then, Sarah's voice, ice-cold. "I'm not paying you to make excuses."
Vincent exhaled. "Relax. I'll find another way."
Sarah's tone sharpened. "No. You had your chance."
Before Vincent could respond, the line went dead.
Something about her tone unsettled him.
And then he realized—he wasn't alone.
A shadow moved at the edge of the alley. Another figure, stepping out of the darkness.
Vincent tensed. "Who the hell—"
He didn't get to finish.
The last thing he saw was a gloved hand striking out—then nothing but blackness.