Tesmee sat quietly in her kitchen, her hands resting on the counter as she savored her breakfast. Her pencil moved steadily across her sketchbook, capturing the fierce elegance of a wolf in mid-stride. Drawing always helped her think. The peace was interrupted by the sound of her men entering the room. They informed her that the cargo arsenal had suddenly changed locations.
Without lifting her head, Tesmee's gaze remained fixed on her sketch. Three long minutes passed. Then, without warning, she set her pencil down and looked up.
"Summon the Big Three," she instructed calmly — her top team: a navigator, a hacker, and an assassin. It was time to plan.
At the same time, Tesmee acted on another front. She ordered Lorenzo — her expert in security analysis and espionage — to investigate the change. His mission was to uncover whether the shift was genuine or a trap laid by Tyson.
Lorenzo, in his early thirties, had the quick mind and sharp instincts Tesmee relied on. He wasn't just an asset; he was the spine of her operation. Without him, her entire empire would wobble.
For the next thirty minutes, Tesmee continued drawing, her mind mapping out strategies behind every pencil stroke. Finally, the Big Three arrived, followed closely by Lorenzo — or as Tesmee affectionately called him, "Enzu." A sly smile curled on her lips as he entered.
The team spread around the kitchen — some leaning against the counters, others perched on the built-in cupboards. The kitchen's sleek grey-and-black design, accented with sharp white stripes, reflected Tesmee's taste: cold, modern, lethal.
Tesmee shut her sketchbook and fixed her gaze on Enzu, who had taken a seat across from her. He wore an all-black ensemble: trousers, leather jacket, gloves, and boots. His sharp Russian features and calm voice made him stand out effortlessly.
Tesmee wasted no time. She outlined the plan, assigning roles and dissecting potential dangers. They debated whether Lorenzo should infiltrate physically or deploy drones. After weighing every risk, they finalized the operation: time, place, position, and fallback options.
As they poured themselves whiskey — neat, no ice — the fiery liquid burned their throats, mirroring the tension crackling in the room. Talk turned to Tyson.
Lorenzo leaned forward, voice tight.
"We're too focused on attacking Tyson. Are we forgetting about protecting you, Tesmee?"
He continued, "Tyson's not just another name on a list. He's powerful. Underestimating him would be our biggest mistake."
Everyone silently agreed.
Tesmee locked eyes with Lorenzo. Her expression was unreadable.
"Do you fear death, Enzu?" she asked, voice quiet.
Lorenzo didn't hesitate. His answer was a low, steady, "No."
The navigator spoke next, urgency coloring his words.
"If you fall, Tesmee, so do we. Everything we've built — every sacrifice — it'll all be wasted."
Tesmee exhaled heavily and finished her whiskey in one harsh swallow. Her grey eyes burned with a fierce light.
"The Hales will pay," she said. "This is only the beginning. There's no such thing as friends in this game. If you haven't learned that yet, you will."
She let her gaze roam across the men around her, her tone softening into reflection.
"I don't know how I made it this far. But I did. Maybe... maybe I was meant to."
She gave a slight, mysterious smile.
"But that's a story for another time."
Intrigued, Lorenzo turned to Seig, their sniper.
"Tell me more about this Hale boy."
As Seig shared what he knew about Tyson, Lorenzo listened carefully, sipping his whiskey.
"So far," Lorenzo said with a shrug, "he's not impressive."
Tesmee leaned back, her eyes narrowing.
"Maybe not. But he'll become a threat the second he realizes what we are."
The conversation stretched into another half hour. They discussed securing Tesmee's territories and preparing for new threats.
When the Big Three finally departed, Tesmee and Lorenzo remained. Their voices grew quieter, more personal.
Pouring another round of whiskey, Lorenzo asked curiously,
"How did Ashley end up with Tyson anyway? Did she ever suspect you were... this?"
Tesmee chuckled darkly, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip.
"She had no idea," she said. "She thought I was just some combat-trained orphan. She assumed I was good with weapons because I grew up fighting."
A mocking smile touched Tesmee's lips.
"Not that I ever told her that. She just guessed... with that empty head of hers."
Lorenzo chuckled.
"So, how did they meet?"
Tesmee smirked.
"It was at a business party. I was there with Ashley. Tyson remembered me from years ago. He asked me for a dance — a kizomba dance. Hands all over me," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But to me, he was just a target."
She continued, amused,
"Later, Ashley thought he was cute. She encouraged me to go for him. But Tyson ended up locking eyes with her instead. That's how their... thing started."
Lorenzo laughed hard, wiping his eyes.
"So, he had a thing for you first — then zipped over to Ashley?"
Tesmee joined in his laughter.
"The stupidity of men," she quipped.
Still smiling, Lorenzo added,
"You know, I thought Tyson was this big, bad figure... but you make him seem like just another fool."
Tesmee shrugged.
"My judgments are loud and clear."
Lorenzo's smile faded, replaced by seriousness.
"But let's be honest," he said. "Ashley's close to Tyson now. She's his wife. You're his enemy. Sooner or later, she'll have to choose sides."
Tesmee's smirk faded. She looked down, brows furrowed.
"You're right," she said quietly. "That's why I've kept my distance. I couldn't risk him using her against me. I had to."
Her gaze hardened.
"If she sides with him... so be it. She was never essential. Just a minor burden."
Lorenzo's expression darkened.
"You wouldn't hesitate to kill her, would you?"
Tesmee's voice was cool, final.
"No. If she becomes a threat, she dies."
For a moment, silence reigned between them.
Lorenzo stood, kissed her hand lightly, and smiled.
"Stay safe, little one."
Tesmee smirked, her grey eyes glinting.
"I always do."
Lorenzo left, leaving Tesmee alone in the quiet hum of the kitchen.