(Seraphine's POV)
The room was silent when I sat down.
Black walls. Dim lights. A single steel table at the center. This was where endings were decided—quietly, permanently. I rested my elbows on the chair's armrests, my expression calm, controlled. No one ever read what I was thinking in this room.
Three figures entered.
Tiger moved first, heavy steps, broad shoulders filling the doorway. Scarred knuckles. Soldier's posture. A weapon even without one in his hands.
Scorpion followed—leaner, quieter, eyes always calculating, always ten steps ahead.
Jessica came last, heels clicking softly against concrete, tablet tucked under her arm. Composed. Alert. Dangerous in her own way.
My inner circle.
"Close the door," I said.
It sealed with a low hiss.
"They're asking for permission to execute him," Tiger reported. "The man who killed Siren."
My gaze flickered for half a second—no more. "Not yet."
Scorpion frowned slightly. "He confessed."
"That's the problem," I replied coolly. "He was too eager. People like that don't break so easily unless they're buying time."
Jessica nodded once. "It feels staged."
"Exactly," I said. "No one touches him until I say so."
I leaned back. "Update me on the President."
The air shifted.
Scorpion spoke carefully. "His administration is collapsing from the inside. Two senior advisors are compromised. One is already selling classified transit routes. The son—"
"I know about the son," I interrupted.
A slow smirk curved my lips. "Corruption always eats itself."
Jessica hesitated. "There's more. He's grown paranoid. Silent purges. People disappearing overnight."
"Good," I said calmly. "Fear makes men careless."
I tapped my fingers once. "Dante Moreau."
The room went colder.
Tiger's jaw tightened. Scorpion looked away. Even Jessica stiffened.
I noticed everything.
"Speak," I ordered.
Scorpion exhaled. "He's expanding. Quietly. Someone is erasing obstacles before they surface. No witnesses. No loose ends."
"A ghost," Tiger muttered.
"Or a mirror," I said softly.
I turned to Jessica. "I want everything on him. Every deal. Every disappearance. Every shadow he leaves behind."
She nodded immediately. "Already digging."
I paused. "And Liam?"
Jessica's fingers slowed on the tablet. "Still missing. Four months. No body. No ransom."
My eyes darkened. "He wasn't smart enough to disappear on his own."
Scorpion chose his words carefully. "You think someone took him."
"I think someone is wearing him like bait," I replied.
I stood. "Take me to the prisoner."
⸻
The execution chamber hummed with restrained tension.
The man was on his knees now, breathing hard, bloodied but alive. My enforcers froze the moment I stepped inside.
"Stop," I said.
Everything stopped.
The man lifted his head and laughed weakly. "You're late, Queen."
I dragged a chair forward and sat directly in front of him. Calm. Measured. I picked up the mallet resting nearby, weighing it once in my hand—not as a threat, but as a reminder.
"You killed Siren," I said evenly. "Why her?"
He grinned through bloodied lips. "She was loyal. Predictable."
I tilted my head. "Who sent you?"
Silence.
I leaned closer. "What were your orders?"
His eyes flickered—just once.
Before he could answer, the doors burst open.
"Boss," a guard shouted. "We're surrounded."
The man smiled.
I rose slowly.
Something was wrong.
I looked at him again—really looked. The unnatural stretch of his neck. The faint seam beneath his jawline.
The anger came instantly. Sharp. Focused.
I stepped forward and tore at the material clinging to his skin.
The illusion peeled away.
My breath caught.
Liam stared back at me.
Not broken. Not afraid.
Smiling.
"Surprise," he whispered.
The mallet slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
And for the first time in years—
Something inside me cracked.