They sent her flowers.
White ones.
Lily of the Valley how poetic. The flower of death that whispers secrets to angels.
Reina Delgado didn't bother to sniff them. She crushed them under her heeled boot as she stepped onto the private plane that reeked of burnt sugar and fuel.
Florists were for fools and funerals.
And she was done burying things.
"Status," she said, the moment her satellite call connected.
On the other end, her assistant's voice was sharp. "Vico detonated the garage. Rossi's estate is in partial lockdown. Target Raina Cruz is alive and still under Damián's protection."
Reina smiled faintly.
"Of course she is. That little bastard always loved broken things."
She poured herself a glass of vintage coñac so old, it tasted like betrayal.
Raina Cruz.
She remembered her.
The girl from the safehouse. Too pretty for her own good. Always watching, always listening. Traumatized but clever. Fragile but with a mouth that bled fire when cornered.
A survivor.
And Reina hated survivors.
Because survivors eventually think they're owed something.
Raina owed her silence.
And yet here she was alive, tangled in Damián's sheets, ruining everything Reina spent a decade building.
Raina hadn't just crawled out of hell.
She'd started redecorating.
"You said Rossi still protects her?" Reina asked, swirling her drink.
"Yes, ma'am. Surveillance indicates they are intimate again."
She smirked. "Of course. He always liked women who knew how to scream."
There was venom in her chest. Not jealousy disgust.
She made Damián. Sharpened him. Molded him from the ashes of his father's shame into a creature of control, violence, and fear.
Il Lupo Nero.
And now he was letting a girl with messy trauma and soft eyes unmake him.
She lit a slim black cigarillo.
"Activate Protocol Calypso."
The line went dead.
The plane soared through Sicilian skies as she stared out the window, nails tapping glass.
"Let's see how much love survives when you remind a wolf what it cost to have a heart," she murmured.
Behind her, a folder lay open on the table.
Raina Cruz.
Photo. Age. Blood type. Past arrests. Secret lover.
And at the bottom, a note scrawled in Reina's elegant, looping hand:
"The girl he chose over the crown."