The smoke still clung to her skin when Isabella woke.
Her throat burned, her head pounded, but her hands were steady as she sat up and surveyed the unfamiliar room.
It was dark, quiet, and expensive — somewhere in Alexander's network of safehouses, she guessed.
He stood in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching her with that same unreadable expression.
"You're awake," he said.
"You're still here," she replied, her voice hoarse but calm.
One corner of his mouth lifted faintly — not quite a smile.
"Not much point in leaving you alone, is there? You'd just run headfirst back into danger."
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the ache in her chest.
"And let her think she won?"
For the first time, his eyes softened — almost imperceptibly.
"That," he murmured, "is why you're still alive."
Half an hour later, Isabella stood at a table strewn with photographs, blueprints, and reports.
Katerina's name appeared again and again — but this time, so did Emilia's.
"She's slipping," Alexander said quietly, gesturing to a photo of Emilia outside another one of Katerina's warehouses.
"Your sister's pride is getting in the way. Katerina's using her like a pawn, and she doesn't even see it."
Isabella stared at the photograph, her jaw tightening.
"She's been a pawn her whole life," she murmured.
"But even pawns can take the queen if you play them right."
Alexander glanced at her, a faint glint of approval in his eyes.
"You're learning," he said softly.
"I like it."
Later that night, she found Emilia exactly where she expected her — at their father's old estate, sitting alone in the garden, a glass of something strong in her hand.
The moonlight caught on her red dress, the same one she'd worn when she'd tried to stab Isabella hours ago.
For a moment, Isabella just watched her.
Emilia didn't turn her head when she spoke.
"You should be dead," she said bitterly.
"You ruin everything you touch. Even now."
Isabella stepped closer, her voice low but steady.
"You think she'll choose you? You think she sees you as anything more than bait?"
Emilia's shoulders stiffened.
"She promised me everything," Emilia spat.
"She said—"
"She lied," Isabella cut in sharply.
"That's what she does. She uses you until you're empty, and then she tosses you aside."
Emilia finally turned then, her eyes wild, her cheeks wet with tears she hadn't bothered to wipe away.
"You think you're better than me?" she hissed.
"You think you deserve this more than I do?"
Isabella didn't flinch.
"No," she said quietly.
"But I'm the only one strong enough to finish it."
For a long moment, the garden fell silent except for the whisper of the wind through the trees.
Then Emilia let out a bitter, hollow laugh.
"Why are you here, Isabella?" she asked finally.
"To kill me?"
Isabella shook her head slowly.
"No," she said softly.
"I'm here to offer you a choice."
Emilia frowned, confused.
"You can keep letting her pull your strings," Isabella continued, her voice calm but cold.
"Or you can cut them. And help me burn her to the ground."
Emilia's breath hitched, but she didn't speak.
Instead, she stared down into her glass, the faintest tremor in her hands.
Back at the safehouse, Alexander was waiting.
When Isabella stepped inside, he arched a brow.
"Well?"
"She'll break," Isabella said simply.
"They always do."
Alexander's lips curved into something that might have been approval — or maybe amusement.
"You're colder than I thought," he murmured.
Isabella met his gaze without flinching.
"I learned from the best," she said.
Before he could reply, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen — and this time, his expression darkened immediately.
He handed her the phone wordlessly.
On the screen was a live feed — another warehouse, but this one was burning.
And in the middle of it all stood Katerina, her dark silhouette sharp against the flames.
She looked directly into the camera, her lips curling into a poisonous smile, and raised a single finger — beckoning.
"Your move," her voice crackled through the feed.
And then the camera cut to black.
Isabella handed the phone back, her pulse steady despite the fire roaring in her chest.
She turned to Alexander, her voice low and dangerous.
"Then let's make it count."