Leon sat back in his leather chair, the weight of the city and his empire pressing down on his shoulders. The pieces were moving, but the game was far from over. Daniel Monroe was no longer just a threat; he was a storm gathering on the horizon.
He tapped his fingers on the desk, the rhythm steady but tense. His phone buzzed again — a message from Nico: Daniel spotted near the docks. No direct contact with Ayla yet.
Leon's jaw tightened. Daniel was testing the waters, probing for weakness. But Leon's own forces were ready — every alley, every shadow, under watch.
He stared out over the cityscape. Ayla was changing, becoming a force of her own. That fire she carried — it was both a weapon and a shield. But it also meant danger. The past wasn't something they could outrun forever.
He lit another cigar, the smoke curling upward like a silent warning.
"Keep your enemies closer," he muttered to himself. "But don't forget to watch your back."
⸻
POV: Ayla
Ayla's hands trembled as she stared at the photograph Leon had shown her earlier. The memories it stirred were sharp and raw.
She moved through her apartment, the walls closing in. The life she was building felt fragile — like glass ready to shatter at any moment.
She met with Leon's allies that night, their faces hardened by years in the shadows. The plan was simple but dangerous: flush Daniel out and protect what mattered.
Her training was paying off. She was no longer the frightened girl from the past but a warrior in her own right.
Yet beneath the armor, the question lingered: Could she ever truly escape the ties that bound her to Daniel? Or would the past drag her down, no matter how fiercely she fought?