Chapter Forty-Two: Shavit's "Deal"

Page 1 of 3

The melodious strains of the waltz flowed through the opulent ballroom like a golden river. Xiao Ran and the man known as “Viper,” the right hand of the “Cleaner,” slipped into the dance floor together.

They seemed like nothing more than an ordinary pair of dance partners, swept up by the atmosphere of the evening. The man was strikingly handsome; the woman, breathtakingly beautiful. Their movements were elegant, precise, impeccable.

Yet beneath this flawless veneer—so evocative of high society—a silent, deadly war had already begun.

Viper’s hand, appearing gentlemanly, rested lightly on Xiao Ran’s bare, smooth back. But his thumb, like the fangs of a true serpent, pressed hard—almost imperceptibly—against a sensitive nerve. With the slightest pressure, he could paralyze half her body in an instant—a threat as subtle as it was ruthless.

“Beautiful lady,” his lips brushed her ear, his breath cold as the Siberian wind, “you seem to have too many friends tonight.”

“Mr. Anderson doesn’t enjoy uninvited guests.”

Xiao Ran’s perfect smile remained unshaken, but in that moment, her eyes turned colder than his.

Then, as they spun through the next turn, her right foot—encased in a deep burgundy stiletto—descended with a swift, elegant, and “accidental” force upon the gleaming, expensive toe of Viper’s handmade shoe.

“Ah!”

Even one as rigorously trained as Viper, a top-tier assassin, could not stifle a short, muffled cry at the sudden, searing pain.

His grip on her waist loosened, if only for a moment.

Now!

Xiao Ran, as nimble as a butterfly, used the momentum of the spin to break free from his deadly hold, regaining the upper hand in the very next step.

“Distinguished sir,” her crimson lips brushed his ear, her breath fragrant yet icy enough to freeze the soul, “surely Mr. Anderson taught you—”

“—that on Chinese soil…”

“…one must learn to follow the rules.”

This silent clash of bodies, hidden within the dance, lasted only a handful of seconds, but it was enough.

Enough for Xiao Ran to draw her true prey into striking distance.

Guiding the dance, she led the Viper—still smarting from the pain—ever so subtly toward the edge of the floor, where Doron Shavit, head of the Israeli delegation, watched them with a glass of wine and an appreciative smile.

Closer.

Closer still.

Then, as she and Shavit nearly brushed shoulders in the next pass, Xiao Ran executed a move so daring that Lin Feng, watching from the command van, involuntarily drew in a sharp breath.

She looked at Shavit, a smile full of “kindness” blooming on her face.

Then, her lips moved just slightly.

Page 2 of 3

In a language only Shavit could understand—the purest, clearest Hebrew—she softly uttered a single word that would chill him to his core.

“—Cleaner.”

Boom—

If the earlier duel had been a silent exchange of blades, then this whispered codeword exploded in Shavit’s mind like a nuclear blast.

His body went rigid. The flush in his cheeks, courtesy of the wine, drained away in an instant.

“Cleaner.”

That devil’s codename—in their shadowy world, synonymous with death and purges.

Who was this woman? How did she know that word?

He jerked his head up, staring at the woman in the burgundy dress, her beauty almost otherworldly, who now met his gaze with a deliberately enigmatic smile.

His eyes brimmed with terror and shock beyond words.

On the dance floor, Viper remained oblivious, still nursing his wounded pride after being stomped by a woman.

The waltz drew to a close.

Xiao Ran and Viper exchanged elegant bows, parting as if the deadly duel had never occurred.

Shavit, meanwhile, stood rooted in place, a puppet whose strings had been cut, his mind blank except for the overwhelming fear of imminent death.

He made the most crucial decision of his life.

He set his wineglass on a passing waiter’s tray and, under the pretense of going to the restroom, quietly followed the burgundy silhouette down the corridor.

At the washroom sink, Xiao Ran stood before the mirror, touching up her lipstick, as if waiting for something.

Shavit entered. With a quick motion, he locked the door behind him.

“Who are you?” His voice trembled violently with fear.

Xiao Ran turned slowly to face him.

Page 3 of 3

She did not reply. Instead, she removed what appeared to be a decorative diamond earring and revealed a device smaller than a grain of rice—a glimmering bug jammer and a miniature communicator.

She handed him the communicator, gesturing for him to put it on.

“I’m someone who can save your life,” she said, her voice cold and direct. “Anderson’s Cleaner is already in position. Tonight, you—and the painting you’re holding—are both on the list of trash to be ‘cleaned up.’”

“Why should I believe you?” Shavit’s voice still shook.

“You don’t have to.” Xiao Ran’s gaze was as chilling as staring into a grave. “You can simply die ‘unexpectedly’ of a heart attack in half an hour, or end up a bloody smear under a ‘runaway’ truck on your way back to the hotel.”

“Anderson has kept you alive this long without anyone noticing. He can just as easily make you disappear tonight.”

Her words clamped around Shavit’s heart like a cold vice.

He broke.

“What do I have to do?”

“It’s simple.” Xiao Ran’s lips curled into a smile of utter control. “During the upcoming transaction, do exactly as I say. In return, I need you to hand over the key to the ‘Scepter of God’ to us, under the guise of ‘technical cooperation,’ and serve as a witness in the international court to testify against Anderson and his Committee.”

“In exchange…”

“The Chinese national security service can grant you and your family the highest level of political asylum—and a brand new identity.”

Five minutes later, Xiao Ran and Shavit emerged from the washroom, calm as if nothing had happened—merely two guests who’d crossed paths for a moment.

In the command van, Lin Feng, having watched everything through a tiny camera hidden in the vent, let out a low whistle.

He muttered to the AI assistant “Mouse,” “Make a note—never, ever, get on this woman’s bad side.”

When Xiao Ran returned to her seat, her gaze first landed on Viper, whose eyes were fixed on her with cold, venomous intensity, then on Shavit, who had already donned his mask of false joviality, chatting and laughing with the other guests.

Her lips curved into a smile—confident, regal, and utterly commanding.