The city square was alive with cheers and flashing cameras. Gian Kayne stood on the stage, smiling at the people. Lights reflected off his black coat. For the first time in weeks, he felt at ease.
Then she stepped forward.
A young woman, trembling but steady, holding a microphone. The crowd went silent.
"I… I have something to say," she whispered.
Gian frowned. He did not know her.
She pointed straight at him.
"You… hurt me. You raped me."
The words hit the air like gunfire. The crowd gasped. Cameras zoomed in. Phones raised everywhere.
Gian's chest tightened. "No… this is a lie!" he shouted, his voice steady but fierce.
Some in the crowd cheered, "He's the Demon Angel! He saves us!"
Others screamed, "Monster! Arrest him!"
Before Gian could explain, officers rushed the stage. Hands grabbed his arms.
"Gian Kayne, you are under arrest," one shouted.
Rico pushed through the crowd, shouting, "Boss! Say something! You're innocent!"
Gian turned toward him, but the moment was gone. The officers cuffed his hands. Flashing lights blinded him.
Through the tinted police van window, he saw her—the woman who accused him—standing tall. Behind her, a shadow in black robes seemed to watch silently.
Gian felt the weight of the city on his shoulders. Every cheer, every shout, every hope—turned against him.
The van door slammed. The engine roared.
And just like that, the Demon Angel was no longer free.