⚠️ Content Warning:
This chapter contains scenes of physical violence, attempted assault, and the presence of weapons (knife and gun). Reader discretion is advised.
The Garden kept spreading its flowers.
One death was all it took to send a message—and now, fear blossomed in every corner of the city.
More victims were recorded—students, graduates, even people loosely tied to the original Rose Garden, each found marked in the same haunting way.
Thorned wire. A single rose. Silence.
So far, only one had died.
But the message was clear:
One was enough to remind the rest that death is now on the table.
The authorities remained on high alert. Patrols doubled, cyber teams combed through digital trails, and pressure mounted with each new report. But no matter how deep they dug...
The head of the Garden remained invisible.
Not a name. Not a face.
Only whispers of the Black Rose and a growing list of victims too afraid to speak.
Annie, Kayla, and Rose watched the world unravel from the sidelines—no longer chasing shadows, but being swallowed by them.
And somewhere out there, the Garden was preparing for its next bloom.
And then it happened again.
But this time, it wasn't another victim.
It was Annie.
They came at night. Fast. Quiet. No warning—just shadows breaking through silence. Two masked figures in black rushed her near the subway entrance, moving to grab her, subdue her, drag her into the dark.
But Annie wasn't just a survivor anymore.
She fought back.
Every punch, every dodge, every block—this was what all those months of training had prepared her for. She moved like she meant it—sharp, controlled, angry.
One attacker staggered back, clutching a bruised arm. The other pulled a knife, frustration flashing through his mask.
Annie's eyes narrowed.
Wrong move.
She disarmed him in a swift motion, sending the blade clattering to the ground.
But then… everything shifted.
The second attacker, panicked and cornered, reached beneath their coat.
Annie froze.
A gun.
For the first time, her body hesitated.
All her training, all her strength—none of it prepared her for that.
The barrel was raised.
Her breath caught.