Chapter 15: Bomb!

Xyrine Jean's POV

"Are you okay?" Louren asked with evident concern, still holding my hand.

I smiled at him. "Yeah, I'm fine." I quickly pulled my hand away from his grasp and turned around swiftly.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You're so annoying! Who told you to assume? You're such a pathetic fool! I muttered repeatedly to myself while walking briskly.

I kept walking and soon noticed people staring at me.

Ah, crap! I haven't even changed clothes yet. Where's that girl who took my things earlier?

I continued walking aimlessly until I spotted her in the distance, talking to two men. Without wasting a moment, I hurried toward them. As I got closer, I unintentionally overheard their conversation.

"What should we do? Our candidate got injured. We can't just cancel this event. It's the most awaited one this year," said one man, who I assumed was part of the LGBTQ community based on his demeanor.

"Yeah, exactly. A lot of media outlets will be here later. Montreal's reputation will be ruined if this event doesn't push through," the other man replied, also giving off the same vibe.

"So, where do we find a substitute?" the woman asked.

Since their conversation didn't concern me, I walked up to them directly. "Excuse me, Miss. I was wondering if I could get my things," I said as soon as I reached them.

For some reason, the three of them just stared at me. I grew more puzzled when one of the guys started circling me, as if he was inspecting every inch of me.

What's this guy's problem?

"Miss, how tall are you?" he suddenly asked, catching me off guard.

"Five flat?" I echoed, my voice laced with uncertainty.

"Liar. You look more like 5'5" or even taller."

If it's obvious, then why ask? I rolled my eyes.

"Well, Miss Coordinator, I think I've already found a substitute for Miss Sharina," he said smugly.

"Don't tell me we're thinking the same thing?" the woman replied, and they exchanged knowing looks.

"You're sharp, Miss Coordinator! I like that! And honestly, she's the perfect replacement, isn't she?"

Replacement? And what the hell are they talking about?

"Yeah, yeah! She's tall, long-legged, fair-skinned, and has a smooth complexion. Plus, she's pretty. Her expression's just a bit stern, but overall, she's perfect!" one of the men chimed in enthusiastically.

My brows furrowed even deeper. "Miss, just give me my stuff so I can leave," I said sharply, clearly irritated.

"I think Miss Xyrine would really be a perfect substitute," the coordinator said, completely ignoring me.

I had no idea what they were plotting, but I had a bad feeling about it.

"Okay, if you don't want to tell me, I'll just find it out myself." I was about to take a step forward when the two gays grabbed me by my arms on either side.

"What the fvck?! What's your problem?! Let me go!" I yelled, but they ignored me completely and dragged me away.

Louren's POV

I could only shake my head as she pulled her hand away and turned her back on me so quickly.

"Love is surely pathetic," I muttered under my breath, a bitter smile forming on my lips.

I headed to the fitting room to change when something on top of the lockers caught my attention—a uniform and a black cap. I knew right away they were hers. How clumsy. I smiled involuntarily.

I picked up her things so I could return them to her personally. As I inspected the cap, I noticed embossed letters inside it.

"BBO • XJ"

My heartbeat almost stopped when I saw the embroidered logo under the letters.

There was no mistaking it. This logo wasn't something you'd find just anywhere—it belonged to the most notorious group of assassins, the Black Brother Assassination Group.

"XJ?"

I froze on the spot as my mind raced back to the codename of the most infamous assassin in BBO—the assassin at the top of every criminal agency's most-wanted list in South America, even by the CIA and the Blue Eagle Association.

"It's impossible."

Why would Xyrine Jean—wait. Xyrine Jean? The initials of her name…

A cold laugh escaped me as chills ran up my spine when I pieced it all together.

"Stupid," I muttered to myself.

Why did you only realize this now? Is this why she felt so familiar to me? Dammit, Louren. You've been looking for her for so long, yet all this time, you didn't know she was this close.

I clenched my fists tightly. I couldn't afford to waste any more time. I ran off immediately to find her.

"Sir Louren!" I stopped abruptly when someone called out to me.

"The Ms. Montreal pageant starts at 6 PM. Please head directly to the auditorium."

Ah, right. Ms. Montreal. I almost forgot about tonight's event.

"I'll be there," I said curtly before continuing my search for Xyrine.

I need to know everything. That's what matters more now.

Two Hours Later

I glanced at my wristwatch. It was already 6 PM. The Ms. Montreal pageant was about to start, but I was still searching for Xyrine.

Where is she?

I felt lost, unsure where else to look, when my phone suddenly rang.

"Hello? Sir Louren, where are you? The pageant is starting soon," the coordinator said urgently.

I exhaled sharply, feeling annoyed. "I'm on my way," I replied before ending the call.

Damn it. The pageant is starting already.

With no other choice, I set aside my search for Xyrine and headed for the auditorium. But just as I was walking, a large monitor displayed in the pavilion caught my eye. It was a live telecast of Ms. Montreal.

I was about to ignore it when an unfamiliar face appeared on the screen. I froze, staring at the woman who had just stepped onto the stage.

Despite her overwhelming sophistication, her simplicity shone through her beautiful face. My heart raced as the model smiled at the camera, as if she was smiling directly at me.

That smile.

Her dimple.

My heart pounded furiously.

"X-Xyrine?!" I whispered, unable to believe my eyes.

Without wasting another second, I dashed toward the auditorium. One thought echoed in my mind.

I don't think I can just hand her over, not now that I know everything, Spade.

Tennessee's POV

"Ren, did you see her dress? It's kind of... geez! It's so annoying!" I complained.

"I mean, she's supposed to wear those tacky clothes, not a dress! Damn! If you'd seen how she captivated every man's eyes on that stage, you'd want to rip their eyes out!"

"Ten," Ren muttered softly.

I frowned. What's with this guy? He'd been quiet since we left the stage earlier.

"What's your problem?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

"I think... I'm in love."

I almost choked on air. "Shit. Where'd you catch that virus?" I asked sarcastically, placing my hand on his forehead. Maybe he had a fever.

"You're an idiot. I'm serious!" he retorted, swatting my hand away.

"And since when did that terrifying word exist in your vocabulary?"

"I think… just now."

I laughed at his words. "Should I give you the Gangster/Womanizer/Casanova Turned Lover Boy award?" I teased, smirking.

"Tsk. Just shut up. Why don't you try fall in love , so I can give you an award?"

"Love? Nonsense!"

"So, who's the unlucky girl?" I asked, taking a swig of wine.

"Xyrine."

I spat out the wine I was drinking. Did I hear that right? Xyrine? Wait, maybe it's another Xyrine.

"Which Xyrine?" I asked cautiously.

"Xyrine Jean Guevara!"

I felt my eyes widen in shock. Is he kidding me?

I grabbed him by the collar. "Ren, I told you before! We can't have her! She's Spade's mistress! And even if we could, I met her first, so back off!"

"You may have met her first, but I know her more than you do!" he shot back, grabbing my collar in return.

We stared at each other for a moment before both of us burst out laughing.

I released him. "I can't believe the day would come when we'd fight over a woman. Are we cursed?" I said, smiling bitterly.

"Yeah, with how much of a womanizer we are, karma is finally catching up to us," he replied.

"So, what now? May the best man win?" I grinned.

"Tsk. Don't get too cocky. Don't forget—it's not just the two of us after her," he pointed out, making me wince at the realization.

As we continued drinking wine, my phone suddenly rang.

"Hello? Sir Tennessee, where are you? The pageant is about to start. Could you head to the auditorium now?"

Geez. I almost forgot. "Yeah, we're heading there now," I said before ending the call.

"We should go to the auditorium before we start a fight here," I said. He nodded in agreement.

When we arrived at the auditorium, Ren and I couldn't sit still. We were both staring at the stage, but our minds were elsewhere.

"Where do you think Louren and Spade are?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I have a hunch," he replied.

I looked at him sharply. Is he thinking what I'm thinking? Are they with Xyrine?

"You know what? I can't stay still. I think we need to find them," I blurted out, likely emboldened by the alcohol.

"I agree, but maybe later. The pageant's about to start," he replied.

"Yeah, you're right."

Soon, the pageant began, but neither Louren nor Spade was anywhere in sight. I tried to focus on the stage, though my mind kept wandering.

"Good evening, everyone! The pageant is finally starting! To kick off the night, let's begin with the catwalk! Please give a round of applause for the first Building Representative!"

I had no idea who our representative was after Sharina's accident, but honestly, I couldn't care less.

"She's wearing a stunning, full-length black gown—stiff brocade, flattering, and loose—with a hint of pink sequined design. Doesn't she look like a goddess? Such a jaw-dropping lady!"

I didn't know why, but I suddenly gaped when I saw the woman who walked onto the stage. Not exaggerating—she really looked like an angel who descended from the heavens.

Argh! What kind of crap am I saying? I cringed at my own thoughts.

I stared at her even more and realized she looked familiar. My heart raced as the model smiled and waved gracefully toward the crowd.

Holy crap! It's impossible, but…

I squinted at the model.

Ba-thump.

Ren and I both stood up simultaneously.

"X-Xyrine?!"

Xyrine Jean's POV

"Damn! It hurst!" I screamed at the top of my lungs because of the pain. "What the heck are you doing to my eyebrows?!"

"You're so dramatic! Is this the first time your eyebrows have ever been threaded? They're so thick!"

I glared at the flamboyant man shaping my eyebrows.

Thread? That's the first time I've heard that word. And this is definitely the first time anyone's touched my face. If this guy were my target, he'd already be headless by now.

"Ah! Whatever! Let me go! I'm done with this!" I said, attempting to stand up, only to be pulled back down by them.

"Do you know how much prettier you'd be if you didn't always frown like that? Try smiling for a change, okay?"

"I don't care! Let go of me right now!" I continued to yell, but no matter what I did, they wouldn't release me.

"Ah! Let me go! I don't want this anymore!"

After the First World War

"Finally! It's done. Just come over here and see for yourself," Loyd said with exaggerated enthusiasm as he stood in front of the mirror. Yeah, his name is Loyd.

After hours of screaming, I no longer had the energy to argue with them. Weak and drained, I walked slowly to the mirror.

"You better not have ruined my fa—" My jaw nearly dropped to the floor when I saw my reflection in the mirror.

"What the... What the heck?!" I stammered. "Wait, where am I? Who is this?!" I bombarded them with questions, staring at the mirror in disbelief, as though the person in the reflection wasn't me.

"Idiot! You're so dramatic! That's you! Hahaha, you're crazy!" Carlo laughed.

Ignoring his comment, I kept staring at myself. I was wearing a long gown that was partly see-through at the top. Tiny sequins decorated the dress, perfectly complementing the black fabric. Then my gaze fell on my face. It had transformed completely. My makeup was simple, but it drastically changed how I looked.

I touched my face and—PAK!

"Ah! Shit, that hurts!" I cried out after slapping myself.

"Idiot! Why did you slap yourself?!" Carlo yelled.

"Let's drag her out before she punches herself next," Loyd suggested.

Still stunned, I could do nothing but let them lead me out of the fitting room.

"Okay, for the final touch, try wearing these and practice walking," Loyd said, handing me a pair of shoes.

I snapped out of my daze when I saw what he was holding. What is wrong with him? Those heels are insanely high!

"I don't want to!" I snapped.

He frowned. "What do you mean, you don't want to?"

"I said I don't want to!" I shouted louder.

His frown deepened. "You don't have a choice! Come here!"

"Ahhh! I said no!"

After the Second World War

"Good! Perfect! You didn't tell us you had such talent for grandpa-walking," Carlo clapped mockingly.

If my feet ache tomorrow, I swear I'll make that flamboyant idiot swallow these five-inch heels.

"Alright, get ready. The catwalk starts in 30 minutes," Loyd announced.

I don't know why, but I suddenly felt incredibly nervous. Moments later, they told me to get ready, saying I was the first to walk. Despite the anxiety welling up inside me, I got myself prepared.

Standing backstage, I overheard some gossip I wish I hadn't heard.

"Hey, did you hear? The 4 Kings are here!"

"Correction, only three of them. Spade's still in the hospital because of Sharina."

Why do I keep hearing these names? I tried to brush off the heavy feeling in my chest.

"Good evening, everyone! The pageant is finally starting! To kick off the night, let's begin with the catwalk! Please give a round of applause for the First Building Representative!"

The moment the host spoke, I stepped onto the stage. A wave of intense nervousness crashed over me.

What's happening to my life? Yesterday morning, I was an assassin. This morning, I was a student. And now? A pathetic substitute for someone. If this isn't ridiculous, I don't know what is.

"She's wearing a stunning, full-length black gown—stiff brocade, flattering, and loose—with a hint of pink sequined design. Doesn't she look like a goddess? Such a jaw-dropping lady!"

After a few steps, I noticed the deafening silence of the crowd. I wanted to back out but stopped myself.

No, Xyrine! You can do this. Prove you're more than just a substitute!

I took a deep breath, smiled, and waved. In an instant, the crowd erupted into cheers and screams.

"Waaaaah! You're so beautiful, miss!"

"Marry me, Miss!"

"Go, First Building Rep!"

Hearing their cheers made me smile, but it didn't last long. A heavy feeling grew in my chest. I scanned the crowd quickly, only spotting Ren and Ten. I kept looking even though I knew it was impossible to see him here. But I couldn't help myself.

"I'll be back."

I smiled bitterly, remembering his words.

"I told you not to hope," I whispered to myself.

As the walk came to an end, I smiled again. I was about to step off the stage when something unexpected happened. Suddenly, a cloth covered my mouth, and everything went black.

I slowly opened my eyes, though I felt incredibly heavy.

I blinked several times as I realized there was a man standing in front of me.

"How are you, XJ?" he asked me with a smile.

My vision was doubling, but I couldn't be mistaken.

"Hylus?"

"I've been looking for you for so long. I didn't know I'd find you here at Montreal University."

"What—"

Ha! I knew it. The moment I became a student, I practically invited everyone to kill me.

"Who ratted me out? Lucas?"

He simply laughed at my question. "Night, day—you have no idea how many times I searched for you after news spread in the underworld that you disappeared."

Huh, this crazy guy. Don't tell me he's still obsessed with me?

"So, what are you waiting for? Why haven't you done what you planned to? Wasn't that your final goal before you were banished from the Black Brother?"

His jaw clenched at my words. "You know, with your beauty, I think I'll have a hard time doing what I intended." He smirked.

I glanced down at myself. Ah, shit! I'm still in a gown.

I flinched as he suddenly stepped closer and grabbed my chin. "Come with me, and I promise I won't kill you."

I laughed. "You know I'd rather be killed than be with you. Fvck you." Without hesitation, I spat in his face.

It didn't surprise me when his hand struck my cheek. Not satisfied, he leaned in and roughly grabbed my chin again. "Stop being stubborn while I still have patience," he growled, gripping my face. "I knew it—your face is on another level. Why waste it as a killer?"

If my hands weren't chained, I would've slit his throat already. I scanned the room, but apart from the moonlight streaming through the window, I saw nothing that could help me escape.

This is ridiculous. This isn't even the kind of death I imagined. Am I really this helpless? No, I know one of our assassins is tailing me, but—fuck. I can't feel any of their presence.

I flinched as his hand trailed up my leg, stopping at my underwear.

When I saw the intense desire in his eyes, I suddenly remembered what the group he belonged to was notorious for. They were sex traffickers. They violated everyone before trading or selling them, and some were even killed.

Am I really going to end here? Like this? Is there really no one who will come for me?

"You're an assassin. We are the ones who kill. Expect no one."

How many times had I heard Uncle say that?

No one... A faint smile crept onto my face.

"Go ahead, do what you want."

As I spoke those words, he laughed maniacally. I gasped when, in an instant, he tore my gown apart.

"That's right, surrender." I shut my eyes tightly as he grabbed me again.

Yeah, no one.

I braced myself for his touch again, but the loud crack of a gunshot echoed through the room. My heart raced as I opened my eyes.

"If you wanted to die quietly, you should've left no trace. You should've made sure I never I will never find you."

My jaw dropped.

Wait. Why is he here? Why is his shirt covered in blood? How did he find me? I wanted to ask all of this, but not a single word came out of my mouth.

I remained frozen, staring at him as he quickly grabbed Hylus by the collar, blood still gushing from his shoulder.

"Don't die on me. I'm not done yet," he said coldly, pressing the gun to Hylus's temple.

"I—I have no idea who you are, but if anyone's going to die here, it won't be me," Hylus weakly said, glancing under the chair I was tied to.

W-what does he mean?

I didn't waste time and looked under the chair. My blood ran cold when I saw a bomb planted underneath. Before I could process what I was seeing, another gunshot rang out. When I looked back at Hylus, his right arm was now soaked in blood.

"I won't ask again. Where's the fvcking detonator?" Spade demanded, his tone cold and authoritative.

"You fool! Do you think I'd bring it here? I know I won't survive once the Black Broth—"

"No! Don't say it," I interrupted, cutting him off. Hylus smirked as he realized what I meant.

"I don't know what game you guys are playing, but time's ticking, and I can't afford to lose you here," Spade said, glancing at me.

I looked away, turning my attention back to Hylus. I shook my head, silently pleading. I knew he understood—we, at any cost, must not reveal our true identities.

"Xy... You're really... You're really lucky..." Hylus muttered weakly before suddenly grabbing Spade's gun and shooting himself in the head.

I froze. Silence enveloped the room as Spade finally turned to face me.

"Leave," I said in a low tone.

He exhaled deeply before deciding to walk toward me.

"Stay right there!" I screamed, bowing my head and shutting my eyes tightly.

"I hate you!" I whispered weakly.

"You're arrogant! Cocky! Annoying! Do you know how many times I've killed you in my mind?" I forced a bitter smile. "I can't even count anymore. But do you know what's even funnier?" I paused, holding back my tears.

'I like you,' I almost said aloud.

I quickly looked up and stared at him. "Just leave! I don't need you here, so get out!" I cried.

I froze when instead of leaving me he just smirked and started to stepped closer, gently holding my face.

"Did you forget what I said? I told you I'd come back, didn't I?" His voice was serious, but his smile was faint.

I stared at him, stunned. "Spade, why are you doing this?" I asked, almost absentmindedly.

My heart raced as he lifted my face, locking his gaze with mine.

"Xyrine..." He looked away briefly.

"I like you."

When he looked back at me, his smile was bitter but genuine.

"I really, really like you."