*At the Ben Mansion*
"Mum, we need to make peace with Kira," Ben said, pacing the grand hallway. "She's the mother of your grandson, after all."
His mother scoffed. "No. I won't let my grandson be raised by a *madwoman*."
"Mom…" he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "We both know she's not crazy. We sent her to that place to break her, to *tame* her. She shot the man who drove Luna to suicide — imagine what she'll do if she finds out we locked her away on purpose."
She turned to him sharply. "Are you having cold feet now? Don't play the victim. You were part of that plan."
Ben sighed, defeated.
"I need more grandchildren," she continued coldly. "From what I see, this boy might inherit his mother's temper. Give me more grandkids, and maybe — *maybe* — I'll consider letting her see him again."
She paused, her expression shifting. "The publishers' gala is next weekend. Be ready. I hear the Royal CEO is a beautiful woman — charming, rich. Woo her. Marry her. She's not some gold-digger. With her on our side, our family will rise even higher."
Ben didn't respond. He just nodded.
His mother smiled wickedly. "Good boy."
Then she let out a cold, triumphant laugh that echoed through the marble walls like a warning of war to come.
At the Commissioner's Office*
"Good morning, Commissioner," the man greeted as he stepped in.
"Good day, Detective," the Commissioner replied. "I wanted to see you personally—have a seat."
Detective Ray sat down, straightening his coat.
"I know I'm new here," the Commissioner began, "and so are you, Ray. But I've already seen enough to know something's deeply wrong. The corruption around here is thick, and the numbers… they don't lie."
He slid a folder across the desk.
"I noticed more rape cases being filed than robbery reports—and almost all of them dismissed. But here's the twist: 80% of the men in those dismissed cases turned up dead. The rest? Vanished."
Ray opened the folder slowly, scanning the grisly photos.
"Our most recent case—Toby—the court found him not guilty. That same night, he and his friend Noble were both found dead. Execution-style."
Ray's eyes narrowed.
"The killer left a symbol. At first we thought it was a random mark, but turns out it's a stamp—'HTW'."
"HTW?" Ray asked.
The Commissioner nodded. "Stands for *Husband to Women*. We suspect it's either a covert group… or a highly organized society. Vigilante justice, maybe. But they're deadly."
*Later That Night – King's Bar*
Detective Ray stepped into the dimly lit bar. The scent of stale beer and smoke hung thick in the air. He flashed his badge at the bartender.
"I'm looking into the deaths of Toby and Noble. They were here the night they were murdered."
The bartender stiffened but nodded slowly. "Yeah, they were here… celebrating something."
"I need your security footage from that night," Ray said firmly.
The bartender hesitated, then walked into the back room. A few minutes later, he returned, shaking his head. "There's nothing. The files are gone."
Ray's brows furrowed. "Gone?"
"Wiped clean," the bartender said. "No backups. It's like that night never existed."
Ray glanced around the bar, his jaw tightening. "So they covered their tracks."
He stepped outside, hands in his coat pockets, mind racing.
"Whoever did this," he muttered, "they're careful. Too careful. They didn't leave mistakes. No prints. No footage. Nothing."
He stared into the distance, the weight of the case sinking in.
"This isn't just a vendetta… it's a war. And it's going to be hard. And bloody. Really, really bloody."