Chapter 3
“Ever wake up at night, Rosie,” Zina continued quietly, “thinking the ghosts of that family you killed in the hit–and–run. might come looking for you?”
The words landed like a slap. Rosie’s face twisted. “You’re talking nonsense!”
“You know if I’m bluffing or speaking the truth,” Zina said, smiling confidently.
Rosie took a few steps back. Something in her gut turned cold. She glanced at Kyle, voice trembling. “Kyle, she’s just too much. I’m so scared…”
That helpless tone, spoken just softly enough, hit its mark. Kyle straightened, chest puffed with indignation.
“Zina,” he snapped, “this is my engagement party. You’re not welcome here. Leave now.”
“I see. I almost forgot–you were in on it too,” Zina raised an eyebrow. “No wonder you’re so protective of each other. Makes sense. Birds of a feather flock together.”
“Get out!” Kyle raised his voice, but Zina remained exactly where she was, calm, unbothered. As if waiting.
Moments later, a suited man came jogging in, stopping just in front of her. He was slightly out of breath but managed a respectful bow.
“Miss Mira,” he said, loud enough for the room to hear. This was Max Shelton, the hotel manager. “the paperwork just came through. This hotel is now under your name. Would you like us to start clearing out the guests?”
Max’s tone was courteous, but his words were indisputable. Gasps rippled through the hall.
Everyone knew this hotel had once been a favorite of Kyle’s uncle, Kellan Carter, and rumor had it the true owner, Mr. Finn, was close to Kellan himself. It wasn’t just a hotel. It was a symbol of power.
Normally, one had to butter up Max just to get a meeting. But now, he was groveling to someone fresh out of prison. People couldn’t help but whisper, totally shocked.
Zina’s lips curved faintly. She knew Chris would handle it quickly, and she wasn’t exactly a stranger to Mr. Finn either.
Mr. Finn had always been something of a myth in the capital, a shadow behind countless assets and organizations. A year ago, he was abducted during a cross–border dispute and taken to a remote island as leverage.
He might’ve escaped on his own–eventually–but Zina hadn’t given him the time. Her team had gone in, extracted him, and wiped the place clean. That kind of favor left a mark, and a hotel was just a small return.
“There’s been some mistake, Mr. Shelton.” Kevin Sinclair stepped forward, forcing a smile that barely held. “She’s my daughter Zina, not ‘Miss Mira‘, and she’s just a nobody getting out of prison today, in fact-”
“Enough,” Max said, standing tall. “Calling Miss Mira a nobody? Seems you can’t tell fool’s gold from the real thing. No wonder you’re right where you belong.”
The insult hit harder than a slap. Kevin’s face turned crimson, his fists clenched at his sides. But before he could say another word, a few security guards stepped in to start clearing the guests.
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Chapter 3
The guests began to stir. The smarter ones quickly made excuses and left, sensing that this was no longer a party–it was a
purge.
Rosie, meanwhile, could do nothing but watch it all unfold, her dream wedding falling apart around her. She turned to Zina, eyes blazing with anger.
“You screw your way into someone’s bed and think that makes you untouchable?” she spat. “Pathetic. I can’t believe we’re even related.”
“That’s right!” Kevin, now finally pulled himself together, puffing up with false bravado. “I knew you’d embarrass yourself like this. Get back home right now!”
But before he could finish, two security guards stepped up, grabbed him by the arms, and dragged him toward the exit.
With the hall finally empty, Max turned back, his polite smile never faltering.
“If everything’s to your liking, Miss Mira,” he pleased. “Perhaps… you might put in a good word for me?”
ཝ ཚེ ཊ སྣ ཁྱ5
“Of course.” Zina nodded. “You’ve done well.”
“Thank you so much, Miss Mira.” Max bowed and backed away quickly, clearly eager not to overstay. “Wishing you all the best in life and your career.”
Chris leaned in and muttered, “He’s got a real talent for bootlicking.”
After Max left, silence returned to the hall. Then a unique ringtone cut through the stillness. It came from Zina’s phone, set for just one contact.
She pulled out the phone, glanced at the screen, eyes cool. “Let’s go to the hospital,” she said. “We’ve got one more loose end to tie up.”
*****
The hospital was humming with tension. People moved quickly, voices low and urgent.
Zina took the elevator to the sixth floor and headed straight toward the VIP wing. Before she reached the suite, a commotion erupted at the far end of the corridor.
“Why has Mr. Carter’s condition worsened again?” the chief doctor, Ben Morgan asked, gesturing toward another doctor. “If Kellan comes back and finds out-”
The doctor’s expression cracked under pressure. Even with his glasses hiding half his face, the panic was easy to see.
Zina put on a mask as she walked. The way the staff spoke about Patrick Carter–the patriarch of the Carter family–said enough. They weren’t treating a patient. They were dodging blame.
“We need to prep the OR now,” Ben added. “He can’t last much longer.”
As the doctor finished speaking, the door at the other end of the hall slid open again. Zina emerged from the shadow, her face mostly concealed by a Bauta Mask. A faint red mark under her left eye gleamed like a hidden signature.
Three years ago, still a wanted criminal, she performed a surgery no one else dared attempt when Patrick flatlined and the doctors were ready to give up.
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Chapter 3
From that day on, people called her “Silver Hands.” She hid her face behind a mask back then, and now, to keep her identity hidden, she had to wear it once again.
“How about leaving him to me?” she spoke up.
Ben frowned. “Who let these nobodies in? Don’t cause trouble here,” he said, stepping forward to shoo Zina away. But then, his assistant stopped him.
__
“Mr. Morgan, the mask… !” said the assistant. “Could it really be the ‘Silver Hands“?”
Everyone remembered that surgery–Patrick had been on the brink of death, and they nearly got into serious trouble because Mr. Kellan would have made them pay dearly.
But to everyone’s surprise, by dawn, Patrick had not only survived but recovered completely. After checking the security footage, they discovered someone wearing a Bauta Mask had snuck into the hospital overnight to perform the surgery.
Ben was stunned when he recognized the mask, but then he narrowed his eyes. “That ‘Silver Hands‘ disappeared without a trace for three years.” He said. “This one could be an imposter.”
His assistant tugged on his sleeve, whispering quickly, “Even if she’s not the same one, what does it matter? If the surgery fails, we have a fall guy.”
Ben’s eyes flicked toward Zina again. His expression smoothed out. “You understand what’s at stake, don’t you? If this goes wrong, there’s no walking away.”
Zina knew they wanted someone to take the fall. That was clear as day. But she only smiled faintly. “And if it doesn’t go wrong?”
Ben didn’t answer immediately. It wasn’t something he had considered. Pausing for a second, he folded his arms. “If you pull it off, we’ll… show our respect,” he replied. “And maybe even ask you to teach us a thing or two.”
Zina gave a short laugh. “Respect, I’ll take. But don’t talk about teaching. You’re not qualified to be my students.”
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