Chapter 545:

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Kristopher gave a small nod, brushing aside a stubborn lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. “Let’s get started.”

“Alright,” Dayna replied, her fingers curling around the tools in front of her as she leaned in toward the face that, frankly, could only be described as infuriatingly perfect.

Kristopher’s features were sharp, symmetrical, almost carved—the kind of face that made people stare for too long. But Dayna wasn’t here to enhance him. Quite the opposite. Makeup wasn’t magic. She couldn’t change bone structure, but she could chip away at perfection—dull the brilliance just enough to let him vanish into the crowd.

Turning to her kit, she rummaged through tubes and palettes until her hand landed on a crimson lipstick. She mixed it with a bit of dark brow powder and began working meticulously across Kristopher’s cheekbones.

Lucas, watching from the sofa, narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What exactly are you smearing on his face?”

“You’ll see,” Dayna muttered, not even glancing his way as she concentrated.

Lucas leaned back, clicking his tongue in amusement. “Most people use makeup to hide flaws. You two? You’re trying to bury beauty under camouflage. If I had a face like your husband’s, I’d never sell another explosive. I’d just sit around, letting the world admire me. The good life.”

Dayna smirked faintly, eyes still on her work. “How would you pull that off?”

“That face? Easy. I’d be the hottest actor on the planet.”

𝘞еe𝗄𝗅𝗒 r𝖾𝗅𝗲𝗮s𝖾ѕ o𝗻 𝗴𝖺𝗅𝗇𝘰v𝗲𝗹𝗌.c𝗈m

“True enough,” Dayna agreed with a quiet laugh.

She spent nearly half an hour dulling down Kristopher’s dangerously handsome features. When she finally stepped back, she studied him with a critical eye. “This is the best I can do. Not bad at all, I must say,” she announced, handing him a mirror.

“What do you think?”

Kristopher lifted it, and his lips twitched at the reflection staring back. Gone was the polished, aristocratic face. In its place were thick, exaggerated brows, a jagged scar slashing down one side, and a sprawling, uneven birthmark creeping across his cheek.

It looked like someone had vandalized a priceless sculpture. But beneath the scars and smudges, his refined bone structure still threatened to peek through—some flaws couldn’t fully mask greatness.

Dayna could only shrug. “Told you, I did my best. You’re too damn symmetrical.”

Kristopher set the mirror down. “It’s good enough. As long as I keep my head low, no one will look my way twice.” At least with that face, people would likely focus more on the frightening birthmark.

“Good.” Dayna cracked her knuckles. “Now it’s my turn.”

For Kristopher, she had used scars and marks. For herself? Full concealment. She layered a dull, dark foundation across her face, neck, and hands, turning her natural glow into patchy unevenness. Then, using a trick she had mastered long ago, she contorted her features into something flat and forgettable—plain as pavement.

The finishing touch? A pair of ridiculously exaggerated false lashes. When she batted them, Lucas flinched, half-expecting a gust of wind.

She turned to the others after admiring her reflection. “Would you still recognize me on the street?”

Lucas rubbed his forehead, eyes widening. “If you passed me now, I’d swear I’d never met you.”

That was exactly the point. The goal was simple—blend in, vanish. That way, if things went sideways tonight, no one would link her face to anything.

“That’s the plan,” Dayna said with a sly grin. “We just have to make it to the deal.”

Lucas checked his phone. “It’s almost time. I’ve already shipped the latest batch of bombs. Let’s move.”

“Alright.”

Lucas had picked tonight’s meeting spot—a desolate stretch on the outskirts littered with abandoned warehouses and skeletal construction sites. The perfect arena for such shady trades.

They hadn’t been waiting long when a black Jeep rolled up, engine humming low, its tinted windows concealing the crew inside.

Dayna’s sharp eyes instantly clocked the assault rifles slung across the mercenaries’ shoulders—compact, sleek, new, lethal. Her gut tightened. What exactly were they planning? These weren’t just mercenaries—they were outfitted like they were prepping for war.

The Jeep’s door creaked open, and a man with a wiry frame hopped out. He was small, but the scorpion inked across his neck made a bold statement—and the dangerous glint in his eyes sealed the deal.

Seasoned. Violent. Predatory.

He scanned the scene, then locked eyes with Lucas. “We agreed this would be one-on-one. Why’d you bring a crowd?”

Lucas met his gaze without blinking. “You want my entire stock, and you want it now. You think I’d carry all that alone?”

The man’s eyes drifted to Dayna, then Kristopher. “And these two? They part of your little bomb-making circus?”

“Better than me,” Lucas replied without missing a beat, pointing toward Dayna. “She’s got legendary skills. With both of us, no order’s too big.”

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