In the darkness, Reginald remained still.
The two fell silent for a moment. Arabella leaned back casually, her legs spread, her tone certain, "Come on—come over and lick me, General Falmouth."
Reginald stirred, slowly stepping toward Arabella, his face hidden in the dark, his expression unreadable.
When he reached the chair where Arabella was sitting, Reginald bent his knees and knelt obediently.
With a light chuckle, Arabella reached out and ran her hand through Reginald's hair.
Reginald's hair was stiff, a result of the military's uniform buzz cut. It felt prickly to the touch, each strand standing upright—an outward sign of his unyielding, rebellious nature.
Arabella stroked it with satisfaction, her touch gentle and flowing like water.
Reginald extended his hands, unbuttoned Arabella's pants, and the sound of the zipper echoed. Arabella cooperated, allowing him to half-lower her underwear.
By the faint light from the streetlamp outside the window, Reginald lowered his head, examining Arabella's private parts carefully. Soft pink, delicate, gleaming with a gentle glow, just as he remembered.
How long had it been since he last saw it, since he last tasted it, since he last entered?
Reginald could rationally replay the triumph of justice over evil a million times in his mind. But his desire was burning, clouding his reason.
He lowered his head, extending his tongue, and the moment it touched, a sudden clarity washed over him—three years ago, he had already been doomed to this fate.
Reginald's mouth and tongue had been trained back then and were naturally top-notch.
Arabella narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, praising him like a pet, "Mmm, not bad. Out of a few men, you're still the best."
Her words struck like thunder, snapping Reginald's lost reason back into place.
What was he doing?
Reginald clenched his teeth in the dark. The night was tempting, yet a fire burned in his heart.
He kept his composure, licking earnestly, producing lewd, sloshing sounds in the silent, spacious living room.
Arabella tilted his head back, a soft hum escaping her nose, the trailing sound laced with a teasing satisfaction. Just that single sound was enough to shatter Reginald's heart, which had only just managed to harden.
Seizing the moment, Reginald moved with astonishing speed. His mind was in chaos, his pupils dilated. When he reached the gun on the table, the world felt silent, leaving only the rapid pounding of his heartbeat.
His heart thudded, and he gasped heavily.
The gun was in Reginald's hand, but Arabella remained unfazed.
She tilted her head, laughing as she teased, "A dog's a dog; don't smack it for a day, and it'll bite its master."
"Shut up! You think I wouldn't dare to shoot you?" Reginald roared, his reason keeping him calm, resisting Arabella's provocation. Yet his heart ached—being treated like a dog by the woman he loved was unbearable for any man.
Love?
To hell with love. What place did love have between an officer and a criminal?
Reginald's expression twisted, and as he shook the gun in his hand, he realized its weight felt wrong.
The gun was too light—no bullets inside?
Reginald paused, pulled his hand back, and brought the gun closer to his face for a careful look. Not a single bullet inside.
How was this possible? Since they entered, Arabella had taken his gun, and he had been watching her the whole time. She hadn't removed a single bullet.
Arabella was amused by Reginald's expression. She spread her hand, the bullets resting in her palm, their metallic surface gleaming coldly in the light from the streetlamp streaming through the window.
"When you were in the hospital—" Arabella began, picking up a bullet and tossing it straight at Reginald's painfully swollen lower body.
Her aim was flawless, and the force was just right—not too hard, not too soft. The bullet struck Reginald's groin, making him let out a muffled grunt.
"I've already taken your gun." Each word came with a bullet, making Reginald's expression shift drastically.
"I'll return it empty." As the third bullet hit, Reginald couldn't help but bend over, clutching his lower body.
"Take your hands off."
The darkness concealed Reginald's cold gaze.
He lifted his foot and kicked toward Arabella's abdomen, holding nothing back.
Neither of them had a gun; it was down to bare hands and skill.
Arabella moved swiftly, tipping backward with the chair to dodge Reginald's fierce kick. She bounced back off the ground, kicking in return and using the motion to pull up her pants, which had slipped halfway down her hips.
With his initial strike missing, Reginald moved nimbly, lunging at her like lightning, fist raised and aimed straight at Arabella's face.
"Ah, this dog has gone mad." Arabella chuckled, easily catching Reginald's attack with one hand.
Reginald froze. He had seen Arabella in action three years ago. Although she hadn't used her full strength back then, he never imagined she could block his all-out move so effortlessly.
In the past three years, he had trained relentlessly, never once letting up. Had he regressed, or had he never truly glimpsed Arabella's full capabilities?
In the darkness, a small light flickered in Arabella's ear as she casually deflected Reginald's attack and retreated toward the balcony.
Reginald saw clearly that Arabella had an earpiece in her ear.
Someone had just called her. Who was it? For what reason?
Reginald took a large step forward, reaching out to grab Arabella's arm.
Arabella lightly stepped onto the balcony, waved, and with a mischievous smile, said, "Little dog, I'm off."
Reginald rushed to the balcony window and looked down. The night was pitch black, the road below silent and empty, with no trace of Arabella anywhere.
He was on the third floor, not very high up. With Arabella's skills, landing safely would be easy. But it was too fast—inhumanly fast.
Reginald dashed out, heading straight downstairs. He glanced around sharply, scanning the surroundings to locate Arabella's hiding place. But all was calm; she seemed to have already vanished.
Under normal speed, even if she jumped to the ground, she couldn't have escaped his line of sight in any direction.
Only—Reginald, alert, redirected his gaze back to his building. Had she climbed up or hidden below?
Reginald moved cautiously forward, scanning each dark, concealed corner of the building's floors, trying to spot any signs of concealment.
Just as he was about to return to the building, his phone rang at his waist. He answered it, and the moment he heard the other person's voice, his expression changed abruptly.
During the call, the sound of footsteps came from the far end of the road, drawing closer. Reginald looked up to see Diamond, whom he had seen that afternoon.
Diamond noticed Reginald gripping his phone, his face tense, and immediately sensed trouble.
The two exchanged a glance, and a chill spread through the air.
After a brief silence, Diamond spoke, "Ferdinand was taken by Arabella. She's back!"
"I know, she just ran from here," Reginald replied bitterly, not noticing Diamond's gaze turning dark as abyss for a moment.
He took a deep breath and continued, "Also, the military hospital just called. They said Merrick was snuck out of the hospital by someone. I'm guessing it was Arabella's doing."
"I don't think her goal is Ferdinand or revenge. Her target is Merrick."
While Reginald and Diamond were conversing, Arabella indeed hadn't gone far, just as Reginald suspected.
She was silently hanging by one hand in the shadowed area of the awning platform between the first and second floors. Her strength and endurance allowed her to stay still in that narrow space.
Once their footsteps faded into the distance, Arabella silently slipped into the courtyard on the first floor. The curtains in the living room were drawn, and a warm, soft light spilled faintly from inside, creating a cozy glow.
Arabella grabbed a hanger from the clothesline, pulled hard, and the metal wire straightened.
Leaping through the window, Arabella landed in the living room, where a young woman sat on the sofa, watching TV with a snack in hand. Startled, the girl looked at the stranger who had suddenly appeared. She opened her mouth to scream, but managed only a faint gasp from her throat before falling lifeless, her eyes open in shock.
A thin iron rod pierced her throat in one lethal strike, leaving no room for error.
A few minutes later, Arabella leapt out of the courtyard again. She had changed clothes, her previously loose hair casually tied with a hair tie taken from the girl.
Exiting the complex, she stood on the brightly lit street, glancing down at her new outfit.
A cartoonish T-shirt with a child's face, playful and cute. Just like her now, dressed casually, blending into the crowd, soon to vanish.
After gathering details from the military hospital, Reginald and Diamond looked at each other, both troubled and lost in thought.
After exhaling a puff of smoke, Reginald spoke, "Let's straighten out our thoughts. Let's talk about three years ago. Maybe we can figure out why Arabella is targeting Merrick."
Diamond smirked, "Can you tell me everything?"
Reginald snorted, sneering, "We're both equally guilty; neither of us has anything to hide."
Cornered by Reginald's words, Diamond took a drag, eyes reddening. "Alright—then let's get it out in the open, exactly what bastard things we did three years ago!"
