Hours later, Vincent stood in front of a full-length mirror, his reflection illuminated by dim lighting.
His hands, though clean, felt stained.
His eyes, though beautiful, felt hollow.
He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, watching his own movements like an outsider. The fabric slid off his shoulders, revealing his lean, toned body—a body built not for survival, but for destruction.
He tilted his head, studying himself.
Was this all he was?
A killer?
A son of that man?
Or was he something more?
The answer should have mattered.
It didn't.
Because the truth was—whether he liked it or not—Vincent Blackwood had never been meant for the world of lights and cameras.
He had been born for blood.
And tonight, he had simply returned to what he was always meant to be.
The Awakening
Somewhere in another part of the city, Anastasia sat alone, staring at the moonlit sky.
For the first time in her life, she felt something unsettling.
A shift. A disturbance in the balance she had always known.
She didn't understand it yet.
But she would.
Because while she had ignored his absence—
Vincent had become something else entirely.
And when they met again, he would no longer be the same Vincent she had once known.
The monster had awakened.
And he was coming for her.