"Fuck… what have I done?"
My voice barely came out—a cracked whisper swallowed by the chaos around me.
Lara's body lay slumped over the table, unconscious across scattered papers.
The giant screens surrounding us showed bulldozers tearing through the outer grounds, getting closer by the second.
My people were panicking—running, shouting, trying to stop the machines.
Those who attempted to block them with cars or bikes…
met their end in seconds.
The room was dissolving into fear, but all I could feel was the suffocating heat trapped inside my mask.
My breath was shortening, constricting, the silk pressing against my skin like a coffin lid.
But my eyes stayed glued to her.
Lara.
Her small body.
Her limp form.
Her silence.
I tightened my grip around the necklace—my necklace—so hard the metal dug into my palm.
The only thing slowing down the avalanche of thoughts crashing in my skull.
My legs wouldn't move.
My mind wouldn't blink.
All I could see was red.
And the single, looping thought of Raven—clouding everything with a toxic fog.
But then—like snapping out of a trance—my body jolted into motion.
I grabbed the nearest bottle and splashed the entire thing across her face, rough and desperate.
She gasped sharply, eyes snapping open, sucking in breath like someone returned from the dead.
She tried to sit up, but her limbs were weak, trembling.
She stared at me with horror… and a furious spark beneath it.
"You fuc—"
Before she could finish, her strength gave out and she fell back onto the table—but this time she was conscious, breathing, stabilizing herself.
Good.
She was awake.
"That was a mistake," I said stiffly, my voice flat.
"I lost control because of the… unexpected appearance of those bulldozers on my property."
She didn't answer.
She was focused solely on calming her breath—slow, steady, measured.
Her composure was almost insulting.
I turned to the screens again.
The bulldozers—dozens of them—completely surrounded the villa.
Some had already begun crushing the front gates, tearing through the decorative stone like it was paper.
Panic rippled through the hall.
Some workers bolted.
Some froze in place.
Those who ran too close to the machines were flattened without mercy.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The bulldozers fell silent.
Every engine cut off simultaneously.
A heavy, unnatural quiet spread across the hall.
People gasped in relief—but I felt my stomach twist.
This silence was wrong.
Calculated.
Planned.
Then the speakers crackled to life.
A voice filled the system—smooth, cold, cutting through every inch of the building.
"Ladies and gentlemen," it said.
"Sorry for the disturbance."
A pause.
"I am here to get my precious."