The pool was still that evening, its surface a mirror reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun. Avalon knelt by the edge, her gaze sharp and unyielding as she surveyed the courtyard before her — a maze of marble paths, ancient olive trees, and flickering torchlight. She had been tracking him for three days. The man they called The Jackal had eluded her at every turn, vanishing like smoke each time she got near. But not tonight. She would end it here.
Avalon adjusted the black band of her swimsuit, using it to hide the diamond-sharp dagger strapped to her thigh. The guise of confidence and elegance she wore was an armor as effective as any chainmail she’d donned in her past missions. To the spear-wielding guards stationed near the colonnades, she was no more than an indulgent guest, savoring the opulence of the villa’s luxurious pool. In truth, she was a wolf in the skin of a lamb.
The dappled sunlight above faded as the torches cast flickering shadows across the water. Avalon caught the faintest movement from the balcony above. There he was. The Jackal, dressed in white, swirling a goblet of crimson wine like Nero himself. Despite her well-rehearsed composure, her stomach clenched; his reputation as a master assassin was not undeserved. He had dismantled entire cartels, and even her fellow hunters whispered of his cruelty in hushed tones. But Avalon was not like the others. She didn’t seek glory. She sought justice for the ones he had left behind in ruin.
Drawing a deep breath, Avalon rose from her crouch, her black bikini catching the last rays of sunlight. She walked toward the opposite end of the pool, her gait casual and unhurried. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run — to dive for cover or lunge toward him with her dagger drawn. Instead, she embraced the stillness within her, a discipline she had learned years ago when she’d first trained under the legendary huntress, Soraya. Like ripples on water, Avalon knew patience would weave a path to her enemy.
The Jackal noticed her. Of course, he did. His attention flicked to her briefly as she lounged on a sun chair, radiating nonchalance. The corner of his mouth quirked up in what seemed half curiosity, half arrogance. Perfect. Avalon pressed her fingers against her pendant — a silver trinket laced with sleeping poison intended for the goblet in his hand. She had only one shot to make the exchange before his guards got suspicious. One slip, and the hunter would become the hunted.
She moved seamlessly, each step calculated. The reflection of the glittering water masked the danger that lingered beneath the surface. Approaching him, she feigned a carefree smile. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” she said, her voice honeyed but steady.
The Jackal chuckled, tipping his goblet ever so slightly in acknowledgment. “It is. But women like you… you never come to places like this for peace, do you?”
Her breath caught for half a second, but she allowed her smile to widen as if his words amused rather than rattled her. “Oh, you caught me,” she replied with mock confession. “I come for the wine.”
He offered her the goblet. For an instant, Avalon felt the danger of proximity – the tattoo of a serpent coiling his wrist, the glint of a hidden blade in his sleeve. Her fingers brushed against his as she accepted the chalice, just enough for her pendant’s poison to delicately coat its rim. She swirled the wine slowly, buying enough time to gauge his reaction. No alarm. Still that smug smirk. The hard part was over.
She pulled back, offering him the chalice as if she’d merely admired its vintage. He drank deeply, oblivious to her ploy.
The poison was swift. Within moments, his laughter grew strained, and his fingers fumbled to grab the edge of the balcony. “You…” he rasped, his confidence dissolving into ragged breaths.
She knelt beside him, her serene expression unbroken. “I’m not like the others,” she whispered, her voice heavy with resolve. “You stole too many lives. This… is justice.”
As his body collapsed, she melted back into the shadows. By the time the guards arrived, the only evidence of her presence was the gentle ripple of water shimmering under the moonlight.
Another mission complete. But for Avalon, the hunt was never truly over.
The source…check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Radiate Summer Elegance: How to Own the Poolside Look
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