Blood still clung to the marble floors of Nathaniel's penthouse. Fire crews had come and gone. The damage was minor—physically. But what the explosion left behind wasn't just wreckage.
It was a message.
And that message?
You were never safe.
Nathaniel's phone buzzed.
Untraceable number.
One message.
"Check her arm."
—L.
He froze.
He knew that signature.
Lucien.
Nathaniel turned slowly. Alfreda stood at the broken window, wind brushing through her hair, blood still speckled across her cheek. She looked like revenge wrapped in red silk.
"What?" she asked, noticing his stare.
"Your arm," he said. "Let me see it."
She arched a brow. "Why?"
"Because Lucien just told me to."
Her expression hardened, but she didn't move.
Nathaniel stepped closer, slowly taking her left wrist.
His fingers traced the inside of her forearm.
Then he felt it.
A scar.
But not just any scar—this one had shape. Edges. A brand.
"Alfreda…" His voice dropped. "This is his mark."
She yanked her arm back.
"I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't know."
"You don't just wake up with a mafia brand seared into your skin!"
"I was drugged for months, Nathaniel! Celeste had me locked away like an animal. Lucien visited when she wasn't there. Said he was trying to save me."
Nathaniel's heart pounded. "He used you."
Alfreda's knees weakened.
And then, as if on cue—
The TV flickered on by itself.
Security feed.
A warehouse.
Live footage.
Tracy.
Their maid.
Nathaniel's most trusted.
Bound. Beaten. Bleeding.
A voice came through the speaker. Distorted. But clear.
"You trusted the wrong one, cousin. This one—"
Lucien stepped into frame.
Wearing the same smile Nathaniel used to see in the mirror.
"—was never yours to keep."
The screen cut to black.
Silence.
Nathaniel's rage was silent and slow, the kind that burned down cities.
"I'm going to gut him," he said, eyes dead.
Alfreda didn't blink. "Not without me."
Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the city's underground, Tracy sat tied to a chair, lips cracked, blood trailing from her jaw. But her spirit?
Unbroken.
Lucien circled her like a wolf. "You were so loyal, weren't you, Tracy?"
She spat blood. "More loyal than you ever were."
He grinned. "Still playing housekeeper, when you could've been my queen?"
She laughed, breathless. "I'd rather die than touch you."
He leaned in close.
"You just might."
Back at the penthouse, Dano burst through the door. "We traced the signal. Old meat factory near the docks. It's Lucien's. Been under another name for years."
"Get the car," Nathaniel snapped. "Tell no one."
"I'm coming too," Alfreda said.
"No."
She glared. "You need me."
"You're branded with his mark."
"Then maybe I'll be the only one who gets close enough to kill him."
Nathaniel paused. "If he touches you again—"
"He won't. Because I'm not the same girl he locked away."
She stepped into his space, eyes blazing.
"I'm the girl who survived."