The Day Our Promise Breaks (Charles and Evelyn) novel Chapter 638

The assassin moved with ruthless precision, his blade slicing through the air, sharp and cold with murderous intent.

If that knife hit its mark, Evelyn’s hand would be done for—ruined beyond repair.

The brutality of it sent chills down the spine.

But just as the blade brushed her skin—

The woman “asleep” on the bed snapped her eyes open, clear and alert. Not a trace of drowsiness there.

In a heartbeat, she twisted like a wildcat, narrowly dodging the cold glint of the dagger as she rolled off the side of the bed.

Her long, toned legs shot out, and with a powerful kick, she slammed into the assassin’s chest.

BAM!

The heavy thud echoed in the silence.

The assassin staggered, reeling backwards, a metallic taste in his mouth. It felt like his insides had all been scrambled.

He’d walked right into a trap.

He realized it instantly—he’d fallen for a meticulously planned setup.

This woman was nothing like the Evelyn he’d read about in the files. She was fast—deadly fast.

His eyes narrowed. No point in sticking around. In one desperate, clumsy roll, he lunged for the balcony door.

He’d checked the place countless times before—this was the only escape route.

He yanked open the glass door. But as the night air flooded in, a sharper, deadlier force swept at him from the shadows on the balcony, aiming low.

Someone else was lying in wait.

Panic shot through him. He hadn’t picked up on any sign of this second person.

These two… their skill was off the charts.

Two against one. No way out.

A flash of desperation crossed his eyes. With nowhere to run, he could only fight for his life.

He twisted to block the blow, tried to counter, but two pairs of hands moved in, perfectly coordinated, ruthless and precise.

Within seconds, he was overpowered—arms wrenched behind his back, knees slammed into the carpet. No chance left.

It was over.

The woman who’d pretended to be Evelyn got up, her face unreadable. She strode over, reached into the assassin’s pocket, and pulled out his phone.

She unlocked it, flipped through the contacts, and opened the latest messages.

Just as expected—the instructions were right there: “Cripple Evelyn’s hand.”

Target confirmed.

A cold smile tugged at her lips. Mimicking the assassin’s style, she typed out one line: [It’s done.]

The reply came back almost instantly: [The money will be in your account soon.]

She tapped out a simple [Okay] and tossed the phone aside.

Meanwhile, the other bodyguard was already on the phone. “Mr. Jenkins, an assassin tried to get into Ms. Evelyn’s room. He’s been taken care of. Ms. Evelyn is safe.”

With the call done, the two women worked together to tie up the assassin, dragging his limp body into the corner like he was nothing but garbage.

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