Lyric was beyond control. Her chest rose and fell with heavy, ragged breaths. The nurse who tried to hold her down had both her arms snapped like twigs with a single brutal twist, making her collapse to the floor screaming in agony. Everyone instinctively backed away, the energy in the room dropping several degrees from the raw bloodlust radiating off Lyric.
She clutched her head, fists pressing against her temples. Shards of traumatic memories exploded inside her mind like glass. Her elder sister's helpless screams as the blade severed her head. Her mother's terrified eyes as she was dragged away. The haunting sound of her father's gurgling breath as he was stabbed repeatedly. Then came the fire. The smell of burning flesh. The cries of her five-year-old twin brother Liam as the flames swallowed him.
Her eyes flared blood-red. But when she looked at Ace, she paused. Her breaths slowed just a little. Lilian noticed immediately. Something about Ace was anchoring her.
Then, an idea formed in Lilian's mind. An insane, possibly catastrophic idea. "Liam is here," she said softly, staring directly at Lyric.
Lyric froze.
Slowly, dangerously, she turned to face Lilian. "What?"
Lilian pointed a trembling hand at Ace. "Liam is back. That's Liam."
Lyric blinked. Something in her cracked. She stared at Ace, and for a brief moment, she wasn't a mob queen, wasn't a butcher of men—she was a broken girl reaching for the brother she lost in fire and blood. She threw herself at Ace with a strangled cry and hugged him so tightly he grunted in pain.
Lilian exhaled deeply. It was the first time she had ever seen Lyric lose control of her emotions.
---------
"Get up."
The cold snap of Lyric's voice dragged Lilian back to the present. She was still on the floor, the vision gone. Everything was back to normal, but Ace's mask was off now, and his expression was unreadable.
Lilian looked between Lyric and Ace, lips parting to speak.
"Don't," Lyric cut her off sharply.
She turned to the A⁴. "You will wait. When I'm satisfied, I'll release your girls."
Her gaze lingered on Ace, something unreadable flickering in her ocean-blue eyes, then she turned on her heel, pulled her black mask from her coat pocket, and slipped it over her face.
There would be bloodshed today. The Dork Cartel and the Onyx Fangs had dared cross her final line.
It was time to end this.
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PORT ARAMIS - DOCKSIDE - NOON
Lyric parked her black matte motorcycle with a growl of the engine and stepped off. The salty air was thick with smoke, blood, and gunpowder. Bullets whizzed overhead, screams pierced the sky, and flames licked the edges of the warehouse.
But Lyric smiled behind her mask.
This was home.
She walked with a slow, deadly grace through the chaos. Elena and Fred were holding off the two gang leaders — bulky men with tattoos crawling up their necks, both out for blood. They stopped when they saw her, backing up instinctively.
"Lyric," Elena called out, blood on her temple. "They tried to take everything."
"I know," she answered calmly.
One of the Onyx Fang leaders suddenly raised his gun and fired at her. The bullet came within inches of her head, but she tilted it slightly, dodging with effortless grace.
"Swords," she said.
A bodyguard handed her twin obsidian katanas.
"I want to butcher their bodies and keep their hearts fresh."
Without another word, she advanced. The two leaders attacked together. Lyric was fast, too fast. She moved like smoke, slicing through skin and tendon with surgical precision. But they were strong. One slammed her against a crate, splitting her lip. Another buried a blade in her side. Blood poured.
Lyric gritted her teeth, and something in her snapped again.
"You're not taking my ports, not my blood, not my name."
She danced between them, spinning, twisting, her katanas singing a death hymn. One head rolled across the dock. The second man's heart was carved out while he was still alive, his scream echoing into the sea.
She stumbled, blood staining her coat. Elena rushed in, handing her a glass container.
Lyric carefully placed both hearts inside.
She stood, checked the seals, and wiped the blood off the glass.
Behind her, Fred and the others began offloading weapons and sacks of drugs from a ship marked with a black serpent.
"How many buyers?" Lyric asked, voice tight but steady.
"Twenty-three confirmed. Seventeen already paid. Five million each."
She nodded, still flipping through the ledger.
Just then, Fred dragged a bound and beaten man toward her.
"He ratted us out to the Dork Cartel and Onyx Fangs."
Lyric stared at the man, who whimpered like a child.
"Oh?" she whispered. "Then I suppose he knows what I do to traitors."
Her eyes gleamed beneath the mask, and the man screamed before she even raised her blade.
Today wasn't over. Not until her enemies learned to fear the name Death again.
She stabbed the man to death and dug out his heart, and added it to the two beating hearts already, making it three. She smiled again, blood smearing across her cheek like war paint, before she received a call — a deal worth ten billion dollars.
She picked up the weapons, her fingers trembling slightly from the rush of adrenaline and blood loss, and turned to Fred.
"Load everything back into the van. Send it to the Crimson Serpents. Make sure they know it's from me," she ordered coldly.
Fred nodded without question. "Yes, Boss."
Moments later, her phone vibrated again. She glanced at the screen — her bank alert. Ten billion dollars. Transferred. Secured.
She mounted her bike, gripping the handles, but winced immediately. Her vision blurred. The wounds on her side throbbed violently. She could barely sit straight.
"Damn it…" she muttered, gritting her teeth.
"Boss!" a teenage boy nearby called out, seeing her sway. "You don't look okay. Want me to help?"
She stared at him for a beat, her mind racing. She looked over to Fred's black Ferrari parked a few meters away. It would be safer. She couldn't afford to risk the glass container, or her mission.
"You," she said, pointing to the boy. "Drive me home. Fred's car."
The boy hesitated, eyes wide. "Y-Yes, of course."
She held the container gently, the three hearts still pulsating inside. It was a grotesque symphony, yet to Lyric, it was the music of justice.
Sliding into the Ferrari's back seat, she leaned her head against the window. The boy got in the front and adjusted the seat nervously.
"Where to, ma'am?"
"Take the south bridge. Avoid the checkpoints. You get me home safe, and you'll get five grand in your account by nightfall."
His eyes widened. "Yes, ma'am!"
The car rolled forward, smooth and fast. Lyric barely spoke, but she kept one hand protectively over the container.
A few minutes into the drive, the boy dared to speak again. "Those hearts… are they real?"
Lyric smiled under her mask. "Very real. And they all betrayed me."
He swallowed hard and focused on the road.
Her phone buzzed again. A message from Elena.
Elena: The Crimson Serpents confirmed the delivery. They said they owe you one. Also, the Dork Cartel is planning a hit on the hospital. We have twenty minutes.
Lyric's expression hardened.
"Change of plan," she said. "Drive faster. Drop me near Black Hollow Street. You'll find a woman named Cassandra. She'll give you your money."
"What about you?"
"I've got another promise to fulfill."
She looked at the container one more time and whispered, "Time to make it four."