Chapter Three –
Corvane at night had its own pulse.
The streetlights blinked like tired eyes, the trains roared like something trapped under the city, and every alleyway whispered the same promise — betrayal never sleeps here.
Rhea lit a cigarette outside the old rail yard and watched the smoke vanish into the cold. Her side throbbed, but she ignored it. The city never cared how much you bled; it only noticed when you stopped moving.
The message she'd intercepted earlier that day was still burning in her pocket — one anonymous text sent to a burner phone. Five words:
"Drop confirmed. Vale runs tonight."
That text had been sent an hour before the ambush two nights ago. The number was gone now, wiped clean. But Rhea knew how Corvane worked — every ghost left a shadow.
She walked past the line of derelict freight cars, boots clicking on metal grates slick with oil and rain. Somewhere behind her, a voice said quietly, "You shouldn't be here alone."
Rhea turned, her hand already on her gun.
It was Mateo — one of Luciana's lieutenants. Sharp suit, crooked tie, a face that had seen too much.
"Luciana send you to babysit me?" she asked.
He shrugged. "She sent me to make sure you don't start another war before breakfast."
"Then you're wasting your time."
He smirked, then glanced at her bandaged side. "You look like hell."
"Good," Rhea said. "Means I'm still alive."
They moved together through the yard, stepping over puddles and broken glass until they reached the far end — where the ground sloped into the drainage canal. Rhea knelt, shining her flashlight across the mud.
There — tire tracks.
And next to them, the faint impression of boot prints.
"Someone waited here," she said. "Watched us move."
Mateo crouched beside her. "You think one of ours?"
"Has to be. No outsider knew the timing."
He exhaled slowly, his breath fogging in the cold. "Then we're already bleeding from the inside."
Rhea didn't answer. She just stared at the tracks until her light flickered and died.
They returned to the compound past midnight. Luciana was still awake, her jacket thrown over a chair, a half-empty glass of whiskey by her hand. She didn't look up when Rhea entered.
"Well?"
"Confirmed leak. Internal."
Luciana nodded once. "Name?"
"Not yet."
Luciana looked at her then — and for the first time, Rhea saw something raw behind her composure. Not fear. Disappointment.
"Rhea," she said quietly, "you're the one person I trust to end this. Don't make me regret it."
Rhea met her gaze. "I won't."
But as she turned to leave, Luciana's hand brushed her wrist — light, quick, gone before it could mean something.
"Be careful," Luciana said, her voice low. "This city eats loyalty alive.
Rhea found sleep only when the dawn light began to crawl across the rooftops of Corvane. But it wasn't rest — it was a slow drowning. She dreamed of the ambush, the gunfire, the flash of headlights. And then she saw Luciana, standing in the rain, blood running down her hands like ink.
When she woke, her phone was buzzing.
A message.
No name.
Just an address — Pier 12 — and three words:
"She's not who."
Rhea's pulse spiked. The text was from the same number that had warned the Vitani crew. But this time, it wasn't a setup — it was a clue.
Pier 12 was a graveyard of rusted ships and drowned deals. The fog was thick, swallowing sound. Rhea's boots echoed against the wet metal walkway as she approached the last dock.
A figure waited there — hood up, shoulders tense. She didn't recognize them until they spoke.
"Rhea."
Her heart almost stopped.
It was Mira.
Mira had been part of the Vale network years ago — Rhea's old partner. Her first real friend in Corvane. The one who disappeared after a raid that left five dead and a warehouse in flames.
"Mira?" Rhea said, half in disbelief.
"You shouldn't be here," Mira said. Her voice was softer now, tinged with guilt. "Luciana doesn't tell you everything."
Rhea stepped closer. "You sold us out?"
"No. But I know who did."
The fog seemed to hold its breath.
"Then say it," Rhea whispered.
Mira looked at her with something like pity. "You already know. You just don't want to believe it."
And before Rhea could speak, Mira turned and vanished into the fog — leaving only her words and the echo of footsteps fading into the cold.
By the time Rhea returned to the Vale compound, her hands were shaking. She didn't know if it was anger or fear.
Luciana was waiting in the upper office, the city lights burning behind her like a crown of fire.
"Find anything?" she asked.
Rhea swallowed hard. "Not yet."
But her voice betrayed her. Luciana saw it.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Luciana smiled — soft, dangerous. "You'll tell me when you're ready."
Rhea nodded, but her chest felt heavy. Because now, for the first time, she wasn't sure which side of the truth she wanted to find.