MAFIA BOSS HUNTS THE MYSTERIOUS NIGHT NURSE: She Secretly Neutralized Three Elite Hitmen to Save His Mother—Now He’s Coming for Her!

The second hitman didn't make the mistake of calling out.

Ten minutes had ticked by with agonizing slowness. Marin had dragged the unconscious, bound operative into the adjoining bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. She stood near the bedroom threshold, holding the heavy suppressed pistol she had stripped from the first intruder. Her fingers curled around the polymer grip with an innate familiarity that completely contradicted her civilian background.

Down the hall, a floorboard creaked.

Not the random settling of an old house. It was the precise, weighted step of a man moving with tactical deliberation.

The second intruder reached Adelaide’s doorway. He didn't bother trying the handle; he pushed it open with the barrel of his weapon, stepping silently into the room with his partner’s tactical path mirrored in his stride.

He expected to find his colleague waiting by the door.

Instead, he found an empty room, save for the pale, elderly woman lying quietly beneath the covers and the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

The hitman froze, his tactical instincts screaming a warning too late.

Marin didn't wait for him to sweep his weapon toward the wardrobe. She fired twice through the thick fabric of the heavy velvet curtain hanging beside the doorway.

Puff. Puff.

The suppressed rounds struck the intruder squarely in the shoulder and thigh, the heavy kinetic impact dropping him to one knee with a sharp grunt of agony. Before he could raise his automatic pistol to return fire, Marin closed the distance, bringing the heavy butt of the firearm crashing down onto the side of his helmeted head.

The man collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

That left the team leader.

Somewhere downstairs, or perhaps standing right outside the bedroom door, the third man realization was dawning. A team of elite professionals didn't go completely silent for fifteen minutes without something going catastrophically wrong.

Marin moved swiftly, binding the second hitman with zip-ties and dragging his limp body into the bathroom alongside his partner. She secured the bathroom door once more, her breathing remaining slow and controlled despite the massive surge of adrenaline burning through her veins.

She walked back to Adelaide’s bedside, checking the medical monitors—which remained dark—and feeling the old woman’s pulse manually.

“You’re bleeding,” Adelaide whispered, her eyes tracking downward.

Marin glanced down at her own white uniform shirt. A dark red stain was blooming across her left shoulder where a stray ricochet or a grazing blade had clipped her during the brief exchange in the dark. She hadn't even felt the impact.

“It’s superficial,” Marin dismissed quietly.

Suddenly, a heavy, deliberate knock echoed against the outer bedroom door.

It wasn't a tactical breach. It was a psychological ploy.

“Karr? Vance?” a calm, gravelly voice called out from the dark hallway. “Talk to me.”

Marin didn't answer. She stepped back into the shadows beside the bed, raising the suppressed pistol, lining up her sights directly with the center of the wooden door panel.

“I know someone is in there,” the team leader continued smoothly, his voice laced with venomous calm. “You can give up the old woman right now, and I promise you a clean, painless exit. Otherwise, I clear this entire floor with incendiary rounds. Burn the house down around you. See how long your oxygen lasts then.”

Marin’s finger rested lightly against the trigger. She calculated the distance through the wood, factoring in the density of the oak paneling.

Before she could squeeze the trigger, a sudden, deafening explosion rocked the southern wing of the estate.

BOOM.

The sound shook the foundations of the mansion, followed immediately by the chaotic rattle of automatic gunfire echoing from the ground floor foyer.