𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝕸 𝖔 𝖔 𝖓: 𝖙 𝖆 𝖝 𝖎

[𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍]: 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚.

T̲H̲E̲ ̲W̲H̲O̲L̲E̲ ̲S̲T̲R̲E̲E̲T̲'̲S̲ ̲C̲L̲O̲A̲K̲E̲D̲ ̲I̲N̲ ̲D̲A̲R̲K̲N̲E̲S̲S̲
while I relaxed in the taxi, just watching it roll by through the window.

Tonight's absolutely stunning;

No rain tonight, not a single cloud to hide the sky, giving us a flawless view of the stars and the moon.

Looks like there's a full moon tonight, 'cause that big white orb in the sky is lighting up the streets like nobody's business—no need for street lamps tonight as well.

Funny enough, the streets are quiet as a mouse tonight too;

Scanning the streets from the taxi window, I rarely caught any sight of a few party animals stumbling around, barely able to keep their balance after a night of heavy drinking.

Not even a glimpse of whores along the curbs or near the clubs tonight;

Just a handful of cars on the road, cruising lazily past traffic lights and intersections alongside the taxi.

Quiet as a church mouse.

Almost eerie how quiet it is.

Suspiciously; too quiet.

"Spontaneous trip, huh?" — A deep, gravelly voice tinged with the roughness of cigarettes caught my attention.

Turning my head away from the window, I shifted my gaze straight ahead, focusing on the front of the car.

There's the taxi driver, with his hand gently gliding over the wheel, stealing a glance at me through the rearview mirror while we wait at the red light.

Around 30, probably a societal dropout, his only skill seems to be maneuvering the wheel, not much else going on upstairs—his IQ seemingly lower than a rock's.

Trust me, a quick glance can usually tell you if you're dealing with a total moron or someone who actually can add two to two.

And looking at him, I doubt he could even write the number two, let alone do any math with it.

To be honest, even my nose is casting doubts on his sobriety.

How on earth did I get myself into this mess?

My team is scattered all over the continent, leaving me stranded without anyone to pick me up from this dodgy wooden shack I just rushed from.

And the longer I sit here, the more I wish I had just hoofed it to the airport on my own two feet.

"Yeah," — I flashed a fake grin — "Managed to snag a dirt-cheap last-minute ticket, so it practically begged me to grab it."

"Flying solo?"

"Don't need any sidekick; I'm my own best bud and sweetheart." — A soft smirk slipped from my throat.

"Well, I can imagine," — Taking another peek in the mirror, he shamelessly checked me out from head to toe — "Your flawless beauty is probably the reason why there isn't a man out there worthy of having you all to himself."

"Appearance can be easily changed, but what sets them away from my level is the fact of their brains located between their legs instead of in their heads."

"Ah, Miss Brainy, I see." — He chuckled, shifting into first gear to roll the car on the green light — "Educated with a couple of diplomas and the epitome of the perfect daughter?"

The corner of my lips curled up softly;

And this time, it wasn't fake.

"Confirmation of wisdom doesn't require a diploma, nor does making your parents proud hinge on a college degree." — I spoke after a short pause — "What truly matters is knowing how to maximize benefits for yourself and those around you."

"So, a self-made businesswoman, huh?" — He sneaked another look at me through the mirror — "Your grace and eloquence just radiate that vibe."

"Calling me a businesswoman is too tame." — I nibbled on my bottom lip — "Let's just say I have a knack for getting what I want."

"I see."

Drawing out the syllable, he chuckled and redirected his gaze straight ahead.

Just want makes me wonder is whether my reply gave him the impression that I'm some kind of whore or that I've got a sugar daddy on his last breaths.

But the idea that I might be dangerous in any way?

Oh, please;

In the minds of people like him, women are deemed too feeble to be anywhere other than the kitchen, let alone engaging in shady dealings.

But that's alright.

While idiots like him doubt us, we move ruthlessly and with unwavering strength, reducing them to their knees before us.

And I don't mean the marriage proposals here.

"Where's this bird flying off to?" — He took a left at the turn.

"It's about time this bird flew off to some warmer climates."

"Scoring a budget-friendly trip to a warm destination?" — He chuckled, easing off the gas — "Where'd you snag those tickets?"

"I already said that I have a ways of making things happen."

Maintaining my unyielding stare fixed on his rearview mirror, I kept in sync with his focused eyes locked on me.

But he didn't utter a word.

Wise choice.

He was the one who broke the eye contact, shifting his gaze to the front window, as the car meandered slowly around the airport vicinity.

Predictable.

They are always too weak to handle the intensity of my stare.

I almost pitied the dude.

Almost.

Inhaling deeply, I shifted my gaze back to the window, exploring the airport surroundings anew.

The atmosphere around here is pretty chill too; it's still early in the weekend, so it makes sense there aren't hoards of tourists. And since it's right after the first night flight, there's nobody hanging around waiting for the next one yet.

Even the bodyguards are so bored they're sneaking in naps in the corners of the rooms and corridors.

"Right on time." — Pulling into the parking lot by the back entrance, he turned to me and shot me a grin.

I rested my hand on the armrest, leaning in a little closer, and his grin vanished as fast as it came.

I watched him gulp nervously, running my eyes up and down his face while my tongue casually brushed against my gleaming white teeth.

I'd wager this was ample to make him go hard in a snap;

It's always so easy, like clockwork every single time.

As a bead of sweat trickled down his brow, I halted my face inches from his, slipping my hand into my back pocket to pull out a wad of cash.

"Here," — Locking eyes with his, I slid the cash into the pocket on his shirt, right over his chest, giving it a few pats with my palm — "But something nice for yourself."

It was only as I backed off that he snapped back to reality, shaking his head nervously and coughing, perhaps to shake off his fantasies about me.

All he could muster was a faint nod and a nervous grin as I grabbed my bags beside me; with a gentle kick of the door, I bid farewell to the taxi.

Finally.

Taking in a gulp of relatively fresher air—though still tainted, but better compared to the stench inside the taxi—I pressed on toward the airport vicinity.

"Thank Me I opted for comfort over glamour tonight," — I arched an eyebrow, glancing down at my sneakers — "My high heels definitely wouldn't have high-heeling with all the walking."

I gave my shoes a tap against the concrete, feeling the gentle breeze tousle my newly blonde wig as I strolled past benches, poles, and bus parking spots.

Not a single soul.

Without the lights illuminating and tables displaying instructions, one might mistake this for an abandoned airport;

"Fuck,"

I cursed quietly under my breath, halting my steps abruptly and swiftly dropping the bags to the ground.

"Once again, Princess left to fend for herself," — With an eye roll, I straightened my posture, placing my hands on my hips to take a breather — "Instead of masturbating in the car, he could be useful and help carry my bags."

Oh, come on, I'm bulletproof, but it's all in the mind.

And I always put my brain to work, ensuring everyone does everything for me without me lifting a finger.

Cooking up the most diabolical schemes to wreck people's minds for months and either driving them to suicide or killing them out on the spot? Piece of cake.

But when it comes to tasks that demand physical strength that doesn't match my mental prowess? Well, I might even pull out Elena's crybaby card.

Perhaps that's her strategy after all; being so dumb and weak might just be her way of coasting through life, letting everyone else think and do everything for her.

Well, at least she's got a pretty face.

That's pretty much her only asset, considering she's even lacking a sense of humor.

While my breath was slowly calming, my narrowed eyes continued scanning the airport, searching for something specific, like the entrance or my plane's gate.

But my attention shifted when I caught the faint buzz of notifications vibrating in my ear.

"Mmm, not bad," — Exhaling a soft smirk, I gave my back pocket a pat — "Still doesn't beat my vibrator, but definitely better than any living dick."

Finally, feeling my phone buzz, I slickly pulled it out and with a deep exhale and a flick of my hair—I can't stand these phony locks particularly—I glanced at my unlocked Lock Screen;

"Over my fiery, infernal, venomous, serpent-like, deceased body." — I grumbled under my breath, pushing the phone out of my view.

Alright, this guy, or bitch, seriously starts getting on my nerves.

I have no fucking idea who they are, what they want, and how the heck they managed to bypass my phone's security, but their creepy bullshit-talking talk just fuel up my annoyance rather than fear.

These messages are more likely to make me cringe so hard I'll twist my stomach than actually worry about my safety.

They're just another wannabe, thinking they're sneaky enough to outsmart me.

But I'm untouchable, especially when it comes to being fooled.

And if that jerk or jerkie thinks they can trick me or play some games with me, they've got another thing coming.

Because when someone thinks they're one step ahead of me, I'm already three steps further.

"Let's see if my gut feeling was on point again" — I smirked, rummaging my pocket.

I was posted up in the shadows, eyes locked on that taxi in the distance, its engine humming but not making any moves to bounce.

I quickly grabbed the tiny earpiece from my pocket and slickly slid it into my ear; no time wasted.

At first, all I caught was a mix of fuzz and shuffling, but a couple of taps on the earpiece's smooth surface linked me up to the tiny mic;

I tossed it in that son of the bitch's pocket, right with the cash.

And then, the noise sharpened into clear sentences.

"Nope, didn't get the scoop on where she's headed. She's keeping it vague on purpose."

My lip curled up.

With my gaze locked on the taxi cab, I sync up the driver's lip movements with the words filtering through my earpiece, indicating he's on a call with someone.

With Mr. or Miss Unknown, I suppose.

So fucking predictable.

"Anyway, I've done my part, so I expect the cash transfer pronto," — He stated firmly — "I was just about to give you the info on which airport she's heading to."

Watching the driver's lively hand gestures, I couldn't help but release a quiet chuckle of disbelief, shaking my head in slight pity.

Dude, being a complete idiot, landed himself in hot water over chump change. Plus, tried to play it smooth like James Bond or some pro spy, yet practically sold himself to me right away.

Everything has sold him; the body language, the scrutinizing eyes, his undivided attention on me, and the questions he fired off.

All that was left was for him to flat out say he's about to flip me, but he hinted that if I outbid his caller, he might rethink whose side he's on.

"Alright, deal is a deal," — He sighed — "So, the airport she's at is..."

But he never got the chance to finish his line.

I shot him.

I kept my eyes locked on him, keeping him in my sights as I smoothly grabbed the piece from the small of my back, under my belt, and let off a few clean shots straight through the car window.

Silencer on, there wasn't a peep as I squeezed off rounds, making sure not to stir up any snoozing bodyguards with the noise of the piece.

The only sound ringing out was the shatter of glass as my shot found its mark, smashing through his car window.

Aimed shot;

Bullseye.

Caught off guard, he had zero chance to defend himself; in my earpiece, all I caught was his quick gasp and a curse, snuffed out in an instant.

The window's shattering ceased, replaced by the relentless blare of the car's horn.

He's dead.

With his lifeless head slumped against the wheel, the honking reverberated through the vacant space around us.

"That's the price you pay for being clueless," — I smirked, tucking my weapon back under my belt — "Feel free to play dirty, but at least do it with some brain."

Grimacing slightly from the pain, I yanked the earpiece out of my ear, annoyed by the incessant honking—Glancing around the airport area real quick, I took stock of the situation;

All the bodyguards, inside and out, were still sleeping like babies.

Giving absolutely zero shit.

"Not surprised," — I shrugged — "I wouldn't give a damn either, considering this guy probably gets paid extra for pissing passengers off during his drunken drives."

But another sound joined the distant honking, this one much closer.

The buzzing sound;

In my hand.

"And who's scaredy-cat now?" — I smirked, tapping to unlock my screen;

"You wanna play?" — I muttered, teeth clenched — "Well then, let's play, kitty cat."

Glancing down, I effortlessly scooped up all the bags again; who cares if I was just griping about how heavy they were? You'd be surprised what a little fury can do to amp up a woman's strength—bags full of stuff ain't no problem.

But instead of making my way to the airport, I strolled over to the parking lot, breezing past the blaring taxi cab—Spotted another cab in the distance, so I gave a whistle and a nod, flagging it down.

Once it pulled over, I made a beeline for it.

I'm making my way to the other airport, loaded with cash to hand over to this taxi driver for taking the longest and most roundabout routes, prioritizing this Spying Creep's dizziness ride first while to trying to track me again;

Just another reason why crossing me was his big mistake.

I'm not playing his games;

But mine.

I'm the one running the show, orchestrating every move on the chessboard.

I just wanted to bounce without any drama, no casualties, and no lingering worries messing with my head—not anymore.

But I ain't about to let anyone punk me like that either.

Fucker wants a war? He's gonna get it.

I might even go for a full-on bloodbath.

Catch Your Mouse if you can, Kitty Cat.