The night smelt of iron and rain.
Davina slipped into the city like a shadow, her brother at her side, silent but wide-eyed. He had never been on a mission of this scale—never been this close to blood. But Davina had waited long enough. Eighteen years of training, watching, listening. Now it was time to carve her name into the bones of Richard Lansing's empire.
Their target: Kieran Voss.
Richard's lieutenant.
The man who had arranged the ambush that left Dave bleeding in Gina's arms.
The alley was lit only by the occasional flash of neon from the bars across the street. Davina crouched low, her fingers brushing the hilt of her blade, her mind steady as stone.
"He'll come through here," she whispered to her brother. "Two guards. One on each side. We take them first. Quick, no noise."
Her brother swallowed, nodding.
And when the first guard's boots echoed across the wet pavement, Davina moved like lightning. A blur of steel. A gasp cut short. The man fell without a sound, throat slit clean. Her brother mirrored her—shaky but effective. The second guard dropped, eyes wide in disbelief.
Then came Voss himself, drunk on arrogance, his cigar glowing like a beacon in the dark.
"Step into the light," Davina commanded, her voice sharp as glass.
He froze, searching the shadows. "Who's there?"
She stepped forward. Black leather. Eyes burning like her mother's. The blade gleaming in her hand.
"You don't know me," Davina said coldly. "But you knew my father. You killed him."
Recognition flickered in his eyes. Fear followed. "The girl…"
She smiled without warmth. "Not a girl anymore."
Before he could run, before he could scream, Davina struck. A single thrust—direct, merciless—straight through the chest. Voss staggered, choking, his cigar hissing in the rain.
As he collapsed, Davina leaned close, her whisper the last thing he heard:
"Tell Richard I'm coming."
She pulled the blade free.
Her brother stared at her, breathing hard. "That was… brutal."
Davina wiped the blood from her blade, her face unreadable. "It was justice. And it's only the beginning."
The rain washed the alley clean, but nothing could erase what had just begun.
By dawn, whispers spread across the underworld. Richard's men were restless. For the first time in years, Richard Lansing felt a chill crawl down his spine.
The daughter of Dave had drawn first blood.
And she would not stop.
Richard Lansing sat in his glass fortress above the city, a bandage wrapped tight across his ribs. The wound wasn't just deep, but the humiliation cut far worse. His empire had cracked—not from rival dons, not from betrayal in his council, but from a girl.
Dave's daughter.
Her blade had found Voss in the dark, and now every man in Lansing's ranks whispered her name like a curse.
Davina.
She was young, untested in their eyes, but Richard knew better. He had seen that fire once before—in Gina. It had taken him decades to cage her, and now her blood was walking free, sharpened into a weapon he hadn't anticipated.
Richard slammed a fist into the table, whiskey spilling over the edge. "I want her found. I want her broken. And I want her dragged to me alive."
But the order came too late.
While Richard plotted, Davina moved. The underworld streets belonged to her tonight. Each corner she turned was a battlefield she painted with fear. She didn't just kill—she dismantled. One by one, she took his lieutenants, his enforcers, his eyes and ears. No hesitation. No mercy.
Her brother watched, caught between awe and dread, but he followed her still, blood on his hands now too. He knew what she was doing—this wasn't revenge. This was war.
And war had rules.
Every corpse Davina left behind carried a mark carved deep into flesh:
A raven.
It was her sign. A declaration that Richard's days were numbered.
Back in the safehouse, Gina stood at the window, hand over her stomach, the child she carried a reminder of both love and loss. She whispered to the shadows:
"Dave, your daughter has become the storm."
Richard Lansing wasn't just losing soldiers. He was losing control. The walls of his empire were bleeding. And for the first time in his life, the Don of Dons felt the kind of fear he had always inflicted on others.
Davina had made her vow.
And she would not stop until Richard Lansing was nothing but dust.