Chapter Seven: The Queen's Retribution
The music in Velvet Thorns pulsed like a heartbeat.
A bass-heavy rhythm vibrated through the velvet-draped walls, drowning the moans and whispers from curtained booths. Bodies twisted beneath neon lights. Desire, danger, and distraction—the club was a playground for the careless.
But Aurora Vale wasn't here to play.
She moved through the haze of perfume and sweat like a storm in silk. Her black dress clung to her figure like it was stitched from shadows. Red lips parted only when necessary. Her heels struck the marble floor with rhythmic purpose.
People moved out of her way without being asked.
They always did.
Behind her trailed two of her enforcers—tall, silent men dressed in matte black. Their presence alone shifted the atmosphere. Conversations stilled. Laughter dulled. Even the dancers paused, sensing the change in temperature.
She didn't need to ask where he was. She could smell his cowardice. His name was Leon Vargas—a mid-level runner with ambition far larger than his IQ. He had stolen from her. Worse, he'd sold intel to a rival crew during a weapons deal. And then he vanished.
Until now.
Aurora found him in the private room upstairs, hidden behind a velvet rope, sprawled on a crimson couch with his pants halfway down and a bleached-blonde stripper writhing in his lap.
He was laughing.
Right until the moment Aurora shattered a chilled bottle of wine against the side of his skull.
Glass cracked. Blood mixed with wine sprayed across the silk sheets. The stripper screamed and bolted, half-naked and barefoot.
Leon collapsed, groaning in a daze, fingers twitching as he tried to lift himself. "Wh—what the f—"
Aurora stepped on his hand with the heel of her stiletto, grinding bone to floor.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out what you did?" Her voice was ice. Clean. Deadly.
Leon writhed beneath her, blood seeping from his temple.
"I—I didn't mean—"
She crouched, expression unreadable. "You didn't mean to sell my location to a cartel that nearly wiped out my weapons line in Mexico?"
"I was just—just trying to make a side deal. I didn't think they'd—"
"Of course you didn't think." She tilted her head. "Because if you did, you would've remembered who the fuck you were stealing from."
She stood slowly. Motioned to her men.
"Take him."
Leon screamed, tried to crawl—but they had him before he could reach the door. One man snapped a cloth over his mouth. The other lifted him by the throat like a ragdoll.
Aurora walked ahead of them, past the stunned crowd, her heels red with blood and wine.
Before she left, she turned to the club's owner—who stood frozen behind the bar.
"I'll be sending someone to collect your security tapes. If there's a delay… I'll assume you want to share Leon's fate."
The owner swallowed hard and nodded.
Aurora exited into the alleyway, the air thick with diesel and rain. The moment the car door opened, she stepped inside without looking back.
The engine purred. Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance.
She crossed her legs, wiped a speck of blood from her knuckle, and lit a cigarette with fingers steady as steel.
Behind her, Leon was gagged and thrashing in the trunk.
"A thief," she said softly, to no one in particular. "And a traitor."
Her eyes flashed in the rearview mirror. Cold. Pure. Ruthless.
"Let's see if Kael still thinks I'm just some beautiful distraction."
The Queen's Retribution(continued)
The Next Morning – Elias
Elias barely slept.
By dawn, the SUV had vanished—but the unease remained.
He left through the basement exit, double-checking each alley corner before slipping into his car. The folder Kael gave him was stashed in a gym bag under the passenger seat, wrapped in old clothes.
He kept his badge clipped to his belt like armor.
The streets were wet with last night's rain. Fog clung to the gutters. And in the rearview mirror—a black sedan.
It wasn't the same SUV.
But it was following him.
He made four random turns before heading toward the precinct. It stuck close.
"Shit," he muttered.
At a red light, he considered his options. Go in circles? Lead them away? Or let them watch him, see how far they were willing to go?
He gripped the wheel tighter.
The moment he parked near the precinct's back entrance, the sedan rolled on, slow and deliberate, before disappearing around the block.
Not aggressive. Not careless.
Just watching.
Inside the precinct, the usual clatter of reports and tired officers filled the air. The fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead. Elias walked through it all like a man wading through ghosts.
Too many uniforms here had names tied to those dirty accounts.
He passed Detective Ward in the hallway—who offered a slow nod that lingered just a second too long.
Fake concern.
Fake smiles.
The walls had ears now.
He ducked into his office, closed the blinds, and locked the door.
On his desk: an envelope. Unmarked.
He opened it.
Inside was a photo. Grainy. Taken at night.
It showed Elias on the park bench with Kael.
On the back, in ink:
"We know who your friends are."
His pulse roared in his ears.
They weren't just watching.
They were already inside.
Elsewhere – Aurora's Penthouse
Aurora stood by her floor-to-ceiling window, the skyline of the city spread before her like a kingdom of glass and steel. Behind her, her private suite was immaculate—modern minimalism laced with opulence. Blood-red orchids sat in crystal vases. Weapons were hidden in plain sight.
Her bodyguard, Matteo (not that Matteo), stood silently near the door, waiting for her orders.
She sipped black coffee from a porcelain cup, eyes trained on the horizon.
"Is the club clean?" she asked.
"Yes, boss. No tapes, no trace. Leon's body is gone. Dogs won't find bones."
She gave a slight nod.
But her mind was already elsewhere.
Kael.
The stubborn lawyer with too much principle and too little caution. He was still running from her… but not fast enough.
He reminded her of someone. Maybe her father in his younger days—before the rot turned him into a monster.
Or maybe he reminded her of who she used to be, before she traded innocence for power and love for control.
She wasn't sure.
But she was sure of this:
She didn't like being owed. And Kael owed her twice now.
"Get the car," she said, turning from the window. "I'm paying Kael a visit."
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "You want backup?"
She smiled coldly. "If I wanted him dead, I'd send a bullet. I want him uncomfortable. Tempted. Cornered."
Her gaze sharpened like a blade.
"I want him to understand."
Transition Scene – Kael's Apartment, Moments Later.
Kael stood at his counter, coffee untouched, staring at the small black rose someone had left on his window last night.
No note. No sound. No clue.
He hadn't told Elias. He didn't need to. Elias had enough problems now.
Kael turned to the door as a shadow moved past the glass.
Three knocks.
Precise. Confident.
He opened it—and Aurora Vale stood there, dressed in black, eyes lit with quiet fire.
"Miss me?" she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission.