The moment he muttered the name, Hector appeared out of nowhere, staring at him arrogantly. "What are you still doing here?" His voice sent a shiver through Baron’s body. But instead of reacting, Baron steadied himself, recalling Aurora’s aura—a fear far greater than what he felt now.

He straightened and met Victor’s gaze. "Miss Aurora said she dropped a necklace here," he replied.

Victor scoffed, his laughter laced with condescension. "Are you that idiot’s servant or what?" His eyes darkened as he stepped closer. "Or do you think it’s my fault for letting her fall?"

Baron didn’t flinch. His mind was occupied with another thought: "Do I have to kill Hector too? The time is running out."

Hector’s gaze turned sharper, his face dark with the intent to spill blood. But just as the tension thickened, Lucas entered, calling out, "We’re moving."

Hector exhaled slowly, running a hand behind his neck as if regretting not acting. Then, without another word, he turned and left.

Baron quickly scanned the room for security cameras, searching for footage of those who had been in the dressing room at that crucial moment. He muttered to himself, "He is not on the list… Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be alive."

His aura began to shift—growing darker, heavier. Determination set in as he gripped the gray cudgel at his left side and stepped forward.

It had taken him only half an hour to recognize their faces again. Half an hour remained. He had to kill them, clean up, and ensure he wasn’t even a second late for his meeting with Aurora.

Before leaving the set, Baron grabbed a white sheet of paper, ran his fingers along its edge, and then resumed his movement—leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

Most of them would likely be gathered in the restaurant by now.

After all, it was dinner time.

Within seconds, Baron arrived at the restaurant where everyone was gathered. He stood at the entrance with unwavering confidence, scanning the room, identifying each target one by one.

It was time to lure them in. A skill Baron had mastered—interacting with people with warmth and kindness.

As he approached each person, a friendly smile curved on his lips. He started with the girls first—there were five of them.

"Excuse me, ladies, but I need you to come with me. It seems there’s been a theft in the dressing room."

They gasped in shock, murmuring, "A theft?"

Baron had only called five out of the seven girls. "Please, head to the dressing room now," he instructed.

The girls stood up and made their way there. Meanwhile, Baron turned to two young men who were also present and repeated the same words. Without much hesitation, they, too, followed.

The seven gathered inside the dressing room—a relatively empty space, save for a few pieces of clothing, shoes, and scattered boxes decorating the area.

And finally, Baron entered behind them, his voice calm as he said, "I apologize… but I have to survive too."

They turned to face him, confusion and disbelief written all over their faces.

Baron tossed his jacket into the air, grasping the edge of the paper he had taken earlier. In a motion almost imperceptible, like a fleeting shadow, he moved.

The thin paper, sharp as a blade, traced across the throats of all seven—without a single mistake, without a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

By the time he caught his jacket again, the bodies had already begun to fall, one after another. He had struck precisely where the vein lay in each, ensuring a swift, painless end.

Exhaling, Baron checked his watch. "Damn it… Fifteen minutes left."

His gaze darkened as he contemplated his next move. "How do I clean this up?"

Seven bodies. In Hotel El Salvador, where movement was restricted, and time was running out.

His eyes landed on a laundry cart.

Without delay, he began loading the bodies inside, struggling slightly under their weight. He covered them with a large black cloth before swiftly pushing the cart toward the restaurant.

There, he recalled the industrial meat grinder in the kitchen.

With quick, calculated steps, Baron disposed of the bodies—one after another—into the grinder, pressing the activation button without hesitation.

Once the job was done, he calmly pushed the empty cart toward the furnace, sliding it inside before closing the door.

He surveyed the area once more, ensuring no traces were left behind.

Then, slipping his jacket back on, Baron turned on his heel and strode toward Aurora’s room.

Only two minutes remained.

And he had to be standing before Aurora at exactly eight o’clock.

Aurora sat quietly on the balcony, inhaling the evening breeze as strands of her hair fluttered gently. Beside her, on the left, stood Lynn. Their balcony was connected to that of Sid and Hector. Lynn was casually chatting with Sid, whose body shivered in fear every time he remembered that he shared a room with a descendant of the Salvador family.

Aurora giggled childishly whenever Sid’s body jolted at the thought of Hector. She stared at the sky for a long time before asking Sid,
"By the way… isn't that arrogant guy here?"

Sid nodded. "If he were, I wouldn't be laughing so comfortably right now."

Aurora gently ran her fingers through her hair, saying,
"How dare he break the rules…"

Sid burst out laughing. "Isn't he the one who made the rules? Of course, he'll break them."

Aurora chuckled softly. "Not while I'm here."

With that, she walked inside, leaving Sid and Lynn to continue their conversation.

It was time.

The moment Baron would appear had arrived.

Aurora moved toward the door without making a sound. She opened it to find Baron standing before her, exuding an air of quiet authority, his gaze respectfully lowered.

She smiled. "Hmm… not perfect."

Stepping closer, she gently wiped a few drops of blood from his face, murmuring,
"But precise."

Her fingers brushed his skin delicately, yet Baron remained utterly still, not even blinking, maintaining complete control over himself.

Aurora stood there, as usual, wearing only a white shirt, her long legs exposed, undeniably alluring. She extended her hand and said,
"Your jacket."

Without hesitation, Baron swiftly removed his jacket and handed it to her.

She shut the door behind her, grabbed a pair of red high heels from the room, and began putting on the jacket as she stepped forward.

"I don’t want any eyes on us," she muttered.

Baron followed confidently as she continued,
"And if he appears… make sure to clean up the place."

Without blinking, Baron gave a slight nod. They walked out together, leaving no trace behind.

They reached the parking area where Aurora had left her motorcycle earlier. Approaching the sleek black bike, she picked up a helmet and handed it to Baron.

"I want to enjoy the night breeze. Make sure you drive properly."

Baron put on the helmet and got onto the motorcycle. He then extended a hand toward Aurora to help her up. She didn’t hesitate—grasping his hand, she climbed on, wrapping her arms around his torso, pressing her body close against him.

Baron revved the engine and took off, heading toward the house. He was fully aware that no one should see her outside; after all, she was part of the "Buds Show," and breaking the rules would be unthinkable for someone the world saw as just an ordinary girl.

Finally, they reached the suspension bridge separating the city from the Al Batris estate.

And there, once again, stood Hector.

Baron immediately sensed his presence.

"My lady—" he began, but Aurora cut him off.

"Go faster. No hesitation."

Baron sped up. Aurora leaned against his back, turning her head to the right, away from Hector’s direction.

As they passed, the wind brushed against Hector’s face. Time seemed to slow as he watched them go by, his gaze locking onto Aurora’s hair dancing in the wind, her body pressed tightly against the rider.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression dark and unreadable.

Then, in a low, menacing voice, he muttered,
"Who is that? And how the hell do you dare wrap yourself around another man like that, huh?"

Standing there, his hands buried in his pockets, he seethed with silent rage at the sight.

"You better have an explanation for this, my dear," he added coldly.

Leaning against his motorcycle, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, unmoving.

Meanwhile, the motorcycle rolled to a stop at the entrance of the Al Batris estate, where Joseph was already waiting for his sister.

The moment he saw them, he stepped forward, fixing Baron with a sharp glare.

"You better keep your eyes on the ground," he warned.

Aurora gracefully dismounted the bike, laughing softly.

"Don’t be so harsh, Joseph."

Joseph's eyes flicked over his sister’s alluring appearance, his jaw tightening in frustration.

"Damn it, Aurora. Again?"

She walked past him with a serene expression, while Baron remained frozen in place, staring at the ground as instructed.

Aurora stopped beside her brother and murmured,
"I'm going to sleep."

Joseph turned and yanked Baron’s jacket off her shoulders. Holding it in one hand, he then scooped Aurora into his arms like a child and wrapped the jacket around her again, his gaze sharp as he carried her toward the entrance.

Aurora nestled against him, then whispered,
"You can lift your head now," gesturing toward Baron.

Baron cautiously raised his head, his gaze landing on the sight of Aurora curled up like a small child in her brother’s arms, her eyes gently closing.

For a brief moment, something flickered in Baron’s heart. He smiled faintly as he watched them disappear inside.

With each step Joseph took, memories flooded back—memories of Aurora carrying him long ago when she was just twelve.

As Aurora’s eyelids grew heavier, she murmured,
"I was going to kill him… but for some reason, I held back. I’ll delay his death a little longer."

Joseph smirked. "I know."

But in his mind, he thought,
I know you cherish us more than yourself.

Aurora drifted into deep sleep, leaving everything behind—even her caution—because she knew that someone would stand like a mountain while she rested.

Joseph laid her on her bed, tucking the blanket around her.

Meanwhile, outside, Victor stood on Aurora’s balcony, smoking as he gazed into the vast, dark emptiness before him.

"Why, then?" he muttered.

Joseph walked over and wordlessly took the cigarette from Victor’s fingers.

"We’re more important," he said.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke forcefully, he added,
"But this is the last time I’ll see a wound on my sister’s body."

He handed the cigarette back to Victor, who simply nodded.

And behind them, Aurora slept soundly—without a single worry in her heart.

She was exhausted.

Exhausted from anger.

From suppressing her fury.

From hiding.

From being herself.

Even from breathing.

Aurora barely ever slept. And when she did, it wasn’t true sleep—just closing her eyes while keeping all her senses on high alert.

Because an assassin never rests.

Because enemies… are always there.

Aurora’s hours of sleep had finally ended. From 9 PM until around 4 AM, she had slept without moving— the longest she had slept in a long time. She woke up like a little child, stretching on her bed while Joseph and Victor remained on the balcony, standing there since she had fallen asleep. She noticed them and said, "I have to go."

Without a word, Joseph and Victor left the room, clearly displeased with her decision, opposing her return to that place once again. Joseph walked out first, but Victor lingered for a moment. He turned to her and said, "Ah... Baron is the son of the former head butler."

Aurora was stunned for a moment before she muttered, "That's why I felt like I had seen him before..."

Victor continued, "He's skilled… don't be too hard on him."

Aurora smirked mischievously and said, "Why would I go easy on him? He’s just a fool."

She then began undressing to take a shower before heading back to the hotel. Once she was ready, regaining her usual sharpness, she put on black pants, a short brown jacket, and high-heeled black shoes before heading to where Baron had left her motorcycle. She picked up her helmet, mounted the bike, and left.

As soon as she reached the suspension bridge, she spotted a shadow there. The closer she got, the more she felt a dark, oppressive aura enveloping the area—until she confirmed it was Hector.

Aurora was surprised to see him still there but decided to pass without paying attention. That was until Hector forcefully placed his motorcycle in front of hers, blocking her path and forcing her to stop.

She halted but didn’t get off her bike, waiting for an explanation for his actions.

Hector stepped closer, tossing his last cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his foot. His face was clouded with anger as he spoke, "So, did you have a nice night?"

Aurora didn’t answer; everything felt strange at that moment. She simply stared at his approaching steps.

Without hesitation, Hector pressed Aurora against her motorcycle, leaning over her while staring at her black helmet. He let his weight rest against her, making it harder for her to breathe for a brief moment.

He reached out, intending to remove her helmet, but then stopped and said, "Alright… you want to stay hidden, I’ll respect that." He then knocked lightly on her helmet and continued, "But…"

His hand brushed over her body, his gaze intense as he murmured, "You're here…" Then, leaning in closer, letting his body press against hers, he whispered, "Mine."

Aurora’s breath hitched under the helmet as her heartbeat raced uncontrollably.

Lifting her head slightly, exposing her neck, Hector suddenly bit her harshly, his voice filled with possessive fury as he demanded, "Who was that driver?"

Aurora couldn’t keep up with her own pulse, unable to respond.

Hector's lips found her neck once more, biting her again, even harder this time. "Who was he?" he repeated, his voice sharp with rage.

Aurora remained frozen, unable to do anything against him.