chapter 7: Norway

[A Random Club in Norway]

The club pulsed with electric energy. The deep bass thrummed through the floor, vibrating beneath the feet of the dancing crowd.

Neon lights flickered, casting shifting shades of red and blue across the sea of bodies moving in sync with the heavy beat.

The scent of alcohol, sweat, and expensive perfume mixed in the air, creating an intoxicating haze. Laughter and flirtatious whispers wove through the music, as strangers leaned too close, drowning themselves in the reckless thrill of the night.

In one of the dimly lit VIP sections,

Kenan Dragomir sat on a plush leather couch, his posture relaxed but his mind razor-sharp.

A half-filled glass of whiskey rested in his hand, though he had no real intention of drinking. His deep crystal Ocean grey eyes scanned the crowd, not missing a single detail-the way people moved, the way they interacted.

Every action, every glance meant something. And he was here to uncover it. His earpiece crackled softly.

"Sir, we've got our target." His secretary Asaph, informed him.

Kenan's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Understood," he murmured under his breath before setting his glass down.

He pushed himself up, smoothing a hand over the dark fabric of his shirt. Just as he began moving toward his target– a woman stepped into his path, her movements far too intentional. She tilted her body slightly, pretending to stumble in his direction, aiming to press herself against him.

Kenan had seen this tactic a thousand times before. So, without breaking his stride, he smoothly stepped aside.

That woman missed her mark completely, losing her balance and tumbling into another man on the dance floor.

Laughter erupted around them.

Kenan turned slightly, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Be careful, Ma'am." His voice was smooth, detached, yet edged with amusement.

The woman flushed with embarrassment. "I... I just wanted to dance with you."

Kenan's smirk didn't falter. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

The rejection cut through the air like a sharp blade, drawing the attention of several women who had been watching him closely. Murmurs spread through the crowd, some intrigued, some disappointed.

But the woman wasn't willing to let her pride shatter so easily. "Then what kind of woman are you interested in?" she asked, voice laced with desperation.

Kenan tilted his head, letting the question hang in the air before answering.

"I'm interested... in her." He lifted a hand, pointing past her.

The woman turned, her eyes widening as she followed his gaze-straight to her own friend.

The second girl stiffened, her fingers tightening around her drink.

Kenan arched a brow knowingly. "Yeah, your friend. The one who sent you here on a bet, right?"

The two women exchanged startled glances, exposed and humiliated.

Kenan extended his hand toward the second girl. After a brief hesitation, she took it, smirking as if she had won some kind of prize. She barely spared her friend a glance.

"Well, nobody has ever resisted my beauty." She flipped her hair arrogantly.

Kenan let out a low chuckle. "You're right. Who could ignore a woman like you?"

He pulled her close, fingers pressing lightly against the curve of her waist.

She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "You're going to have an unforgettable time with me."

Rage curled in his stomach, but he masked it with an easy smile.

Her lips traced the line of his neck, her hands roaming freely, unaware of how his own fingers slipped into her purse, retrieving the small strip of tablets he had come for.

Once the job was done, he tucked the item into his pocket and took a deliberate step back.

She frowned. "What's wrong, handsome?"

Kenan's gaze darkened slightly before he schooled his features back into an unreadable expression.

"Let's continue this in a room."

Her eyes gleamed with triumph. "Sure."

As she slid her hands over his chest, she whispered, "Damn, you've got a solid body... I can feel it."

Kenan smiled, but his jaw clenched subtly, he was feeling disgusted being touched by this woman, but he was enduring, he had to.

She had no idea that beneath his polite smirk, he was suppressing the urge to shove her off him.

But he had to play along.

After all, her allies were still watching. And the real game was just about to begin.

***-------***

The room, they entered was dimly lit, luxurious yet impersonal-deep red curtains draped over tall windows, and sleek black furniture added to the expensive yet cold ambiance.

A king-sized bed sat in the center, its silky sheets slightly disheveled, as if prepared for the very scenario about to unfold. The scent of liquor and faint traces of perfume lingered in the air, remnants of past encounters that had taken place in this very space.

The door clicked shut behind them.

"Let's not waste any time," the woman purred, her fingers already reaching for Kenan's coat.

He stood motionless, his expression unreadable, letting her do as she pleased-for now.

But the moment she slid the coat off his shoulders, her breath hitched, and her eyes widened in shock.

Her gaze dropped to his torso. Beneath his shirt, he wore a bulletproof vest, holsters strapped tightly to his chest, each holding a loaded gun. The air in the room turned ice-cold.

Fear crept into her features as she stumbled back. "You... Who the hell are you?" Her hand instinctively moved to her thigh-to grab the hidden weapon she always carried.

But her fingers met nothing but smooth skin.

Her gun was gone...

Her head snapped up, and Kenan smirked knowingly. He had taken it when she was too busy leering at him.

Realizing she was at a disadvantage, she lunged forward, intending to attack him with her bare hands.

But Kenan was faster.

With one precise movement, he pressed a pressure point on her neck. Her body tensed for a second, and then—darkness.

She collapsed into his arms, completely unconscious.

From behind the curtains, Asaph stepped out, two more men following closely behind.

Kenan let the woman's body drop onto the bed with a dull thud. "Take her to the base. I want every piece of information on my desk by tomorrow." He reached down, picking up his coat from the floor and dusting it off as if the whole ordeal had been nothing but an inconvenience.

Asaph nodded, signaling the other men to carry her out. "Aren't you coming along, Sir?"

Kenan exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. "I need to clean myself first." His tone was edged with irritation.

Asaph barely managed to suppress a laugh, exchanging a glance with the other men before escorting the unconscious woman out of the room.

Kenan dragged a hand down his face, sighing in exasperation.

This was going to be a long night.

***-----------***

[at the Seashore]

The waves crashed against the shore, their rhythmic sound blending with the distant chatter of tourists and the soft tunes playing from a nearby café...

The scent of salty air mixed with the faint fragrance of fresh flowers drifting from a small wooden stall set up near the walkway. The golden hues of the setting sun painted the horizon, casting long shadows on the sand.

Standing near the seashore edge, Kenan Dragomir exuded an air of quiet dominance. Dressed in black, his sharp gaze remained concealed behind dark shades as he surveyed the area. The cold breeze tousled his already messy hair, but his focus remained unwavering.

In his earbud, Asaph's voice broke the silence. "I don't think we're gonna find any clue again, Sir."

Kenan's jaw clenched slightly. "It's the fourth day I've been coming here, and we've got nothing. Either that woman lied, or her allies have already grown suspicious."

His patience had worn thin after four days of fruitless surveillance.

Asaph sighed from the car where he monitored the surveillance feed. "Yes... I guess so, Sir. Maybe she really did lie."

Kenan's lips curled slightly in a cold smirk."Then I'll make sure she tells the truth tonight." His voice was calm, but there was a lethal promise in it.

'That woman is done for sure'... Asaph thought pitying that woman, shaking his head as he removed his earpiece.

Kenan cast one last look around the area before turning to leave.

Not far from him, Jiri, Chéri's comrade, spoke in an earpiece, "Chief, he's leaving again."

Chéri, who was handing a bouquet to a customer, subtly turned her head to glance at the man in question. Her face remained composed, but beneath that calm exterior, irritation simmered.

For four days, Kenan had been lingering around this area, yet he never once noticed her. Almost every man who crossed her path was drawn to her, captivated by her beauty-yet Kenan Dragomir?

Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

Kenan, too, had noticed a flower girl stationed nearby, but he didn't bother to see her face as she was nothing more than background noise to him. Just another bystander.

"30 euros," Chéri said politely, handing the bouquet to her customer.

The man smiled, giving her the cash. "You're really beautiful."

Chéri nodded, her response smooth and practiced. "Thank you, Sir."

As Chéri reached out to receive the cash, her fingers briefly brushed against the crisp bills. But her focus wavered. Her gaze drifted past the customer-landing on the man who had been unknowingly testing her patience for days.

Kenan Dragomir.....

She watched as he turned away, his tall, commanding figure moving effortlessly through the crowd, oblivious to her presence yet again.

Another day wasted... again.

Her grip tightened slightly around the money as she exhaled slowly, masking the flicker of frustration in her eyes.

To be continued

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