Chapter One

The day begins as it always does, with the morning light flooding their bedroom and his wife's warmth cuddled close. As usual, he awakes at seven, kisses his wife's forehead, smiling like a fool at the usual whine it earns him before he slips out of bed and fixes the blanket around his wife so she can get some more sleep.

Without a hitch he carries out his morning routine: showering, brushing his teeth, dragging his unwilling daughter out of bed, and cooking breakfast. He checks the pile of paper teleported on his desk overnight, answers emails, finishes some half-finished tasks from last night, feeds his daughter breakfast and then greets his wife when she finally awakes.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

As usual, his wife asks him of his plans and he briefs her, smiling at the approving nod she gets from her. His daughter runs him through the blueprint of a new hybrid weapon model that she designed last night which makes his chest fill with pride with how brilliant her idea is. He promises her his workshop for the weekend and then sends her and her mother off.

He dresses in his gear, answering the call from his sidekicks ("Assistants!" They squeak.) and leaves for his first meeting of the day.

The meeting ends without any complications. His assistants bring up the next case they are supposed to work on. It is the assassination of the president of CypherX—the tech giant that had has far too many connections to the underground. The assignment is sent by the Prime Minister of Britain himself, in fear that if the man's ties to the mafia could cause imbalance in power.

His assistants have already concocted a plan when they report the assignment to him. As they brief him about their course of action, Viktor finds himself admiring his wife's administrative skills. These assistants that she had forced onto him after he had overworked himself to the hospital were not only capable and adaptive but also extremely perceptive and in tune with each other's and his thinking.

Truly, his wife was a gift and Viktor still had not figured out how he managed to score such an amazing person for himself.

Okay maybe his assistant deserve credit for their brilliance but if it were not for his wife spending days on applications to find them for him, he would not have known them. So yeah, his wife gets the credit.

"Sir." His Head Assistant, Xiu Zhen, or as she prefers Zena Xiu, breaks him out of his daydream and glares at him with a steely gaze. This woman who can barely reach his shoulders even with 6-inch-high heels on somehow possesses the ability to run him around however she wants as if she is the boss and not him.

"Yes, Zena?" He replies, tone dripping his sugar.

Zena brings up a palm to knead her forehead as she exhales, "Did you hear anything we just said?"

"Of course!" He goads, confidence dimming when she stares at him blankly, "Most of it anyway. The relevant parts."

"Oh?" Oh no. That is the 'stop bull-shitting' tone. "Please tell me this then: when are we planning on instigating the assassination?"

"Uh…" When he does not reply, Zena lets out yet another sigh, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Tonight. We are planning the assassination tonight."

"Ah yes. Exactly! Of course, we are!" He grins brightly, smile straining his lips enough that he cannot hide how fake it is. "Of course—"

"Stop daydreaming about your wife." Zena cuts him off, exasperated. She truly deserves to be Morrigan's best friend; they are mirror images of each other. Of course, Morrigan is better but Zena is amazing too. "You will have enough time for that later. We need your brain here."

"Yes, ma'am." Viktor salutes, leaning forward in his desk as Zena repeats the plan again.

With everything solidified, and his assistants bidding their goodbyes to go and start preparations, Viktor only has to read through few files, authorise a few assignments and then he is free to return home for lunch.

The first time he feels something is amiss is when he returns home at lunch and Morrigan is not home. He knows his wife has days where she needs to just stay outside and roam the streets to calm her nerves, but she had never missed lunch. She says it's because if she isnt there, Viktor will probably eat something he should not and be a cooling corpse by the time she finds him.

But she isnt here now.

Viktor even checks the calendar to see if there was something that might have held her back but then again, whenever something came up or if she was too busy dealing with the stupidities of the Villain Association, Morrigan had always called him and informed him of him.

He calls her office phone, and it rings—once, twice, and then the line goes flat.

He reassures himself it's alright because she may be on her way and just stuck in traffic.

It does not make him feel well but he cannot find any other plausible reason as to why she isnt home yet.

Time passes until its two hours later and Morrigan still has not returned. His frayed nerves nag him relentlessly, and worry plagues him. He tries the office phone again.

There is still no answer.

He tries her personal phone, and the line goes to voicemail.

Its only when his eyes land on the clock in his phone does he realize that his Vestia has not returned from school either.

The second time he realises something is wrong is when his phone rings. He picks it up hurriedly, not even glancing at the name, thinking it is Morrigan.

It is not.

It is Zena and she sounds hasty and panicked in a way he has never heard from her. She tells him to come to the office as soon as possible.

At her words, he freezes.

Then everything goes to hell.