WAR ROOM*
Ace, with arms crossed, stood against the far wall. His arms were sleeved in black tattoos, his silence always more dangerous than words.
Blade sat cross-legged on the table itself, twirling a butterfly knife between gloved fingers with boyish mischief.
"Boring day. Someone stab me or something" he muttered.
Rocco chuckled from his seat, cracking his knuckles. "Or we could stab you. That's always fun"
Storm, hood up and boots resting on a chair, was typing rapidly on a device in silence. His mind was elsewhere, probably on bombs or blueprints.
Axe leaned against the wall near the door, one hand resting on the steel weapon strapped to his back. He licked his teeth slowly.
"Why stab him when you can crush his skull in?"
Viper strutted back into the chamber like she owned it, hips swaying, heels clicking, venom in her gaze.
She walked past Ace, then paused to glare at everyone, especially Vixen, before speaking.
"Boss definitely made a mistake by sending you on that mission, Vixen," she said sharply, her tone drenched in scorn. "It should've been me"
"Stop being jealous, Viper" Ace said, moving from his former spot.
Before anyone else could respond, Vixen, perched on the edge of the table and reapplying her blood-red lipstick, chimed in lazily.
"Lol. It's fine to be. I would be too. It's been a while since the Boss trusted her with anything serious"
She blew a kiss in Viper's direction without looking up.
Viper's eyes darkened. Her hand flew to her thigh, pulling a thin blade from her strap and hurling it toward Vixen in a flash.
But Vixen was faster.
Calmly, she leaned to the side, the knife clinked into the wall behind her.
"You're too slow, sweetheart"
Viper stepped forward, jaw clenched.
"You know I'm stronger than you, but no one's ready for that conversation"
Scarlett gave a low laugh from her seat.
"Maybe because that conversation doesn't exist"
Sylvia looked up from her tablet, her expression dry and sharp.
"Strong in what? Being bitter? Congrats"
Rosa, stroking a curved blade, smiled faintly.
"I prefer Vixen anyway. She kills with class"
That was enough.
Viper's lips curled back. "Fuçk all of you" She turned to leave.
But Blade couldn't help himself.
"Don't trip on your ego on the way out"
In an instant, Viper twisted and flung another blade straight at his head.
Blade ducked it and the knife embedded in the wood behind him, vibrating.
He grinned.
"You're gonna have to do better than that, Viper"
Viper let out a frustrated growl and stormed out.
The room was silent for a beat.
Then, Storm finally lifted his head and turned to Blade with a glare cold enough to chill steel.
"You're the youngest here. So maybe learn your fucking place"
He stood up and left as well.
Blade sighed, still grinning as he retrieved the knife from the wall.
"Damn. I just wanted some fun"
Everyone left the room one after the other.
Only Ace and Vixen remained.
She adjusted her holster lazily, still perched on the table like a queen on her throne.
Ace pushed off the wall, eyes raking over her with that unreadable expression.
"You look dangerous this morning" he said quietly.
Vixen smirked, standing up with that signature sway in her hips.
"I am dangerous"
She stopped briefly in front of him, lips parted just slightly, eyes locked on his.
"Don't fall too hard, Ace. I've got a mission to prep for"
Then she blew him a kiss and walked out, leaving the scent of trouble and lipstick in her wake.
Ace just smiled faintly.
Damn.
•••
MATTEO'S MANSION*
Aurora finally slid off the bed, her bare feet touching the cold marble floor with a soft thud.
She hadn't left that room since morning. Since after she had taken a slow, warm bath that did little to wash away the soreness from the night before.
The workers had brought her food, well-trained maids who said nothing and avoided eye contact. She hadn't touched much of it.
Wincing slightly, she padded down the long hallway and descended the grand staircase.
She passed through a wide corridor that opened into what looked like a private training area.
The space smelled faintly of metal, sweat, and something uniquely masculine. Weapons of all kinds lined the walls which are blades, firearms, even hand-to-hand combat dummies. It was dark, brutal… entirely Matteo.
Curiously, Aurora stepped in.
Her fingers brushed against a dagger on a rack. She picked it up, but it felt heavy, too heavy for her weakened arms. With a frustrated sigh, she let it drop back into place.
That was when her eyes caught a portrait on the far wall.
It was of a woman looking stunning, with haunting eyes and long black hair that curled softly at her shoulders. The painting looked freshly preserved, the frame immaculate. Whoever she was, Matteo had chosen to keep her here… like a memory that refused to fade.
Aurora stared.
Something about the woman made her chest tighten. Beautiful, yes, but there was sadness in her eyes. Pain. Love? She wasn't sure.
Then came the sound.
A car pulling in sharply, tires crunching against gravel, followed by muffled shouting.
Her eyes widened and she backed out of the room quickly, following the noise.
She stepped outside just in time to see guards surrounding someone.
"Enzo!" she called out, relief flooding her voice.
The guards blocked his path.
"Stop it. He's here for me" she said firmly, pushing through them.
Enzo looked up, his eyes softening when they met hers. Her bag of clothes she messaged him to bring was beside him.
"Aurora" he breathed.
She launched into his arms, hugging him tightly. She didn't care who watched.
When they finally pulled apart, his brows were furrowed with concern. "How are you faring?"
She gave a dry laugh, then shook her head. "What do you think?"
"What about my sister? How's her condition?"
"From what I heard... she's awake" Enzo said gently. "But you haven't answered my question. I asked how you are faring"
Aurora's eyes dropped to the ground. "It's... happening so fast. I don't know"
Then she sighed deeply and tiredly as the weight of everything she was carrying pushed down on her shoulders.
•••
NIGHT, AT THE CRIMSON DEN*
The Rolls-Royce purred to a halt at the entrance.
Out stepped Vixen, curves hugged in blood-red silk, slit high enough to wound a man's soul. Her blonde hair was pinned up, exposing the nape of her neck. The diamond-studded clutch in her hand held more than makeup.
Two steps behind, Rosa came out wearing black lace and pearls.
And then came Scarlett, hair slicked back, dark suit, no nonsense. Her job wasn't to shine. Her job was to see everything, remember every face, and be the hand that struck if things went sideways.
The guards straightened.
"Invitation?" one barked.
Vixen didn't hand him anything. She stepped forward, close enough for her perfume to make him forget the question.
"Elijah knows I'm coming" she said in a thick, foreign accent. "He requested red"
The guard checked his tablet. There she was... Vera Volkov.
He gulped and stepped aside.
"Welcome to the Crimson Den"
Sylvia's voice buzzed in Vixen's ear:
A tiny glints of tech disguised as diamond studs, hairpins, subtle piercings, a designer cuff. A comms system custom-made by Sylvia.
*You're clear. Varga is at the private lounge. Third floor. Two guards outside. Code on the door changes every ten minutes. I'm hijacking the next cycle now.
Vixen didn't reply.
Rosa slipped off to the bar, blending in, watching from mirrors. Her job? Create noise if needed, spill a drink, scream fire. Be a beautiful disruption.
Scarlett moved like a shadow. She was already scouting the hallway, noting exits, cameras, guards.
Meanwhile, Ace crouched above, crouched on the edge of a rooftop two buildings over, a sniper rifle slung across his chest and a blade at his hip. His earpiece crackled.
Sylvia: "All cameras facing north are now looping. You're invisible"
He sprinted across the rooftop and leapt to the Den's roof, rolling into a crouch.
One guard patrolling. Ace dropped him with a silent chokehold and dragged the body into shadow.
He opened the vent and dropped into the ventilation system.
"In position" he whispered.
Inside, Vixen walked toward the spiral staircase, hips swaying. She reached the two guards at the third-floor door.
"Mr. Varga is expecting me" she said.
One guard raised a brow. "Password?"
Before he could blink, Scarlett appeared behind him, slamming his head into the wall. The second reached for his gun, but Rosa's high heel embedded into his temple from behind.
Both went down, silent and quick.
Vixen didn't flinch. Sylvia's voice came in:
*I've overridden the door. Go.
She stepped inside.
Elijah Varga sat at the head of a curved leather couch, cigar lit, shirt slightly open. His eyes flicked up and froze when he saw Vixen.
"My, my… Red looks good on betrayal"
Vixen smiled.
"I prefer to call it seduction" she purred, stepping closer.
Behind her, Scarlett slid in silently. Rosa stood guard outside the door.
And above them, Ace loaded his weapon, trained right on Elijah's head through the vent.
Elijah Varga leaned back on the curved leather couch, swirling brandy in a glass. His eyes raked over her lustfully.
"You're even more stunning in person, Vera Volkov"
"The mirror says the same thing every morning"
He chuckled, gesturing to the seat beside him. "I like a woman with wit. Sit. Drink with me"
She did.
As she crossed her legs, Vixen's hand slid across the glassware, her fingers trailing the rim of the nearest one... his.
In her earpiece, Sylvia whispered:
*You've got 90 seconds to dose him before the guards change again.
Vixen gave a soft laugh, leaning over to pour the brandy into the glass. As she did, a tiny capsule slipped from her ring, dissolving without a trace.
She handed it to Elijah.
"To new partnerships" she purred.
He clinked her glass and downed it in one shot.
He shifted closer, fingers brushing her thigh. "I've waited a long time to meet you"
Vixen leaned in, letting him feel the curve of her waist and the warmth of her skin.
His hand slid to her jaw, thumb grazing her lower lip.
Then he kissed her slowly, and hungrily as if tasting power.
But just before it deepened, she pulled away like a cat stretching before walking off.
"Now, now," she whispered, tapping his chest with a single finger, "we just met. Don't ruin the thrill of the chase"
He chuckled, eyes dazed. "You're trouble…"
His words slurred.
And then his head dropped back on the couch.
Out cold.
"Target neutralized" Vixen whispered.
Scarlett stepped in from the shadows, already opening the hidden drawer behind the bar.
"I've got the drive" she confirmed, pulling out a small black case with a fingerprint scanner on it.
In her earpiece:
Ace: "Guards on rotation. You've got two minutes before the hallway's live again"
Rosa slipped in, heels in her hand, bare feet silent on the floor. "Exit through the service stairs. Cameras are still looped"
Scarlett handed Vixen the drive.
Rosa took Elijah's access card.
Vixen leaned down and kissed Elijah's cheek. "Thanks for the drink, lover"
They exited as elegantly as they arrived hair in, not a single drop of blood spilled.
Ace was waiting at the car, engine already running.
The doors slammed shut.
The mission was over.
And they were gone before Elijah Varga even started dreaming.
•••
BACK AT MATTEO'S MANSION*
Aurora stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her bare shoulders, silk robe tied loosely at the waist.
The door opened and Matteo came in, his jacket was off. Shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows. Eyes dark and watching.
She froze.
Her fingers curled at her sides as her heart skittered against her ribs.
He said nothing.
Just looked.
Long, hard, unforgiving seconds passed in silence as his gaze raked her in. Like he was counting her sins one by one.
Then he moved with that unnerving calm only a monster in control could wear.
He stopped in front of her and his fingers brushed the back of her robe.
She stiffened.
He pulled the silk apart, exposing the raw mark seared into her skin, his brand that had barely begun to heal.
His voice dropped.
"I did this for a reason..."
His thumb traced the edges of the branded M, now red and angry against her skin.
"I marked you"
He stepped closer, his breath hot against her nape.
"How dare you let another man touch what belongs to me?"
Aurora's lips parted, but no words came.
"How dare he hug you?"
"Do you know what that makes me look like?" he growled.
He moved around her slowly, circling like a predator. His knuckles dragged along her collarbone, then stilled beneath her chin, tipping her gaze up to meet his.
"Seems I need to make it clearer to you…"
"That you're mine. And mine alone"
Before she could react, his hand wrapped around her wrist, not hard but enough.
Enough to drag her with him.
Deeper into the mansion where the lights grew dimmer and colder.
He pushed open a heavy steel door.
Inside are stone walls, chains, a chair and a table with objects.
"Matteo… please" she whispered, voice cracking.
He shut the door behind them with a soft click that sounded far too final.
"You let another man touch you…" he repeated, circling her like she was prey again.
"Now you'll learn what mine truly means" Then silence, only the sound of her breathing.
Matteo stood before her, his fingers running along the edge of a rusted tray.
He lifted something, a clear container.
Shards of glass.
Not just any glass but shattered, blood-stained, as if this wasn't the first time.
Her eyes widened as he poured the contents on the floor before her. The shards clinked against the cold tiles, jagged edges glinting like a thousand tiny knives under the low-hanging light.
Her stomach dropped.
"Take off your slippers" he said, voice deadly calm.
"Matteo…" she whispered, stepping back.
"I said take. Them. Off"
She did. Hesitantly. Her feet met the cold floor, bare and vulnerable.
"You think I branded you just to watch another man wrap his filthy arms around what's mine?"
"No piccolina, I branded you so that even your soul would remember me"
She looked at the floor again.
The glass shimmered like the promise of pain.
"Step on it" He said calmly.
She shook her head, trembling. "Please…"
His jaw ticked. He was calm. Too calm. That was always worse.
He grabbed her chin and tilted her face upward, forcing her eyes to his.
"This is me being merciful. You should be thanking me"
He let go.
She didn't move.
So he leaned in, whispering.
"Wanna make it clearer to you…"
"So you won't ever forget again"
Then stepped back.
She stood there, shivering in nothing but a robe, her dignity cracking like the glass beneath her. And slowly because defying him now would only make it worse, she lifted her foot…
And stepped.
Pain shot through her like a live wire. Sharp, instant, hot. She let out a choked gasp but didn't scream.
She lifted the other foot.
Stepped again.
Blood smeared beneath her. The glass bit deeper. Each step felt like fire under her skin.
Matteo's eyes never left her.
He watched with something that looked like hunger... twisted, dark hunger.
And when she finally crossed the small path of pain he created for her, shaking and bleeding he stepped close again. Cupped her face gently, too gently.
"See?" he whispered.
"Now you'll remember"
She said nothing.
She's hurt, burned, branded again.
Not just on her skin now, but her soul.
Her knees buckled the moment she stepped off the glass.
Blood streaked the floor in thin, wet trails. Her breath was shallow. Her body, trembling. But Matteo caught her immediately.
She was limp in his arms, the pain still shooting up her legs like electric current, and yet he held her like she was something precious.
Then, without warning, he hugged her.
Tightly.
She gasped, her fingers instinctively clutching his shirt, but Matteo didn't loosen his grip. He held her tightly. Firmly.
His lips brushed the crown of her head.
"You weren't supposed to be mine, piccolina…"
"…but now that you are, I'll slit the throat of any man who so much as looks at you"
Then, as if the storm never happened, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.