Night settled over Manhattan again. The café had just closed. The last customer had left twenty minutes ago, and the quiet inside felt almost peaceful. Almost. Ivy wiped the counter slowly, her mind running through the same thought again. Alexander Morozov was getting too close. Men like him didn't lose interest easily. And curiosity from someone like Alexander was dangerous. Very dangerous. The bell above the café door suddenly chimed. Ivy's hand paused. She hadn't unlocked the door. Slowly, she turned. Three men stepped inside. They didn't look like customers. Heavy boots. Dark jackets. Cold eyes. The man in front smiled. "We're looking for someone."
Ivy leaned against the counter calmly. "We're closed." she said The man ignored her.
"You're Ivy, right?"
Her expression didn't change.
"Who's asking?"
The man pulled out a photo and placed it on the table. Ivy's eyes flicked down. It was blurry. A rooftop. A dark figure. Her. The man smiled wider.
"Someone paid good money to find you."
Ivy sighed quietly.
"So that's how it is."
Behind the man, another guard locked the door. The third man cracked his knuckles.
"We'd prefer you come quietly."
Ivy stepped away from the counter slowly.
"Unfortunately…" Her voice stayed calm. "…I don't like being escorted."
Outside the café, a black car pulled up. Alexander stepped out. Victor followed him.
"You said the café was closed," Victor said.
"It is."
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the dark windows. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.
Then— A loud crash came from inside. Alexander didn't hesitate. He kicked the door open.
Inside, chaos had already started. One of the men lay unconscious on the floor. Another slammed into a table. The third one was being held by the collar. And standing over him was Ivy. Her movements were fast. Controlled. Precise. Nothing like the calm café owner she pretended to be. Alexander stopped in the doorway. Watching. Silent. The man tried to swing at Ivy. She blocked it easily and drove her elbow into his ribs. He collapsed instantly. Silence filled the café. lvy exhaled slowly. Then turned toward the door. And saw Alexander standing there. Their eyes locked. For a moment neither of them spoke. But this time… There was no pretending. Alexander slowly stepped inside. His voice was calm. Almost amused.
"Well."
He looked around at the unconscious men. Then back at her.
"That explains a lot."
Ivy didn't respond. Her shoulders were tense. But her expression remained composed. Alexander walked closer.
"Angel…"
His tone was quieter now.
"…you're full of surprises."
Ivy crossed her arms.
"You shouldn't have come here."
"Why?"
"Because now you know too much."
Alexander stopped a few steps away from her.
"And you think that's a problem?"
Ivy met his gaze directly.
"For you."
Alexander studied her face carefully. Then finally said the words he had been thinking for days.
"You're the assassin."
Not a question. A statement. The room went silent. Victor slowly stepped inside behind him, looking between them. Realization spread across his face.
"Wait…"
His eyes widened.
"The café girl is—"
Alexander raised a hand slightly, stopping him. His eyes never left Ivy.
"Well?"
Ivy looked at him for a long moment. Then she gave a small, tired sigh.
"…You figured it out."
Alexander smiled slowly.And somehow that smile felt more dangerous than anger.
"I told you," he said quietly.
"You were interesting."