Charlotte's strapless flapper dress hugged her figure, the peacock design catching the light and bringing out the color in her eyes. Blue eyeshadow shimmered beneath the bar lights, and her platinum hair was rolled and pinned neatly, exposing pearl earrings that matched her necklace. Her shoulder brushed against Lucian's as he sat beside her at the counter.
Across the bar, Lucian's pale eyes narrowed as he tightened the charcoal tie around his neck. He looked perfectly composed—his gray flat cap matched his suit jacket, his hair slicked back and curling slightly at the nape of his neck. Smoke drifted from his lips, settling into the haze that filled the room.
"That's him," Charlotte nodded. "He's part of the ring."
For the past two years, since Charlotte's rebirth, Lucian had helped her hunt down everyone involved in the trafficking operation. They'd started with the man who had refused her. It was dangerous work, but death always lingered around drug and trafficking rings.
Lucian didn't reply. He only nodded, his gaze locked on the man across the room.
Tony Emilio lounged in a booth, surrounded by business associates and beautiful women. He was charming—light brown hair, golden eyes, dimples that made women fall in love at first glance. That was always his greatest weapon: seduction.
They laughed loudly at his jokes, tossing back drinks with every punchline. Charlotte's stomach twisted as she watched him down another glass of Old Forester. He tucked dollar bills into the women's waistbands, and they rewarded him with kisses on the cheek.
Lucian knew it was time.
He rose from his stool and crossed the room, calmly checking his pocket watch. Heads turned as he approached the booth.
Tony lowered his sunglasses, studying him.
"Can I help you?" Tony's demeanor was sharp.
"I certainly hope so," Lucian smiled. "I'm here on business."
Tony raised a brow and waved everyone away from the booth—except for two men who remained standing guard in the corner of the speakeasy.
"Coming into my territory," Tony said with a grin. "I like that." He motioned for Lucian to sit. "So, what kind of merchandise are we looking for, Mister—"
"Thomas," Lucian interrupted smoothly. "Thomas Landry."
He shook Tony's hand.
Lucian's entire demeanor had shifted. Tonight, he was Thomas Landry—charismatic, carefree, a man who loved indulgence.
"All right, Mister Landry," Tony said. "What can I do for you?"
Lucian hesitated, then leaned close to Tony's ear.
"I love blondes," he whispered.
Tony smiled and motioned to one of his assistants, murmuring something into his ear. Moments later, the man returned, leading a woman by the hand. She was beautiful—and terrified.
Lucian forced himself not to react. There was work to be done.
"She's perfect," he said, taking the woman's hands.
He wanted to tell her she was safe. That everything would be okay. But not yet.
As Lucian and Tony finalized the payment, Charlotte rose from her seat and headed for the exit. Her eyes met Lucian's briefly before she disappeared into the Louisiana night.
Lucian slid Tony an envelope and shook his hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
"Hope I'll see you again," Tony replied.
Lucian couldn't help but smile at the irony.
The woman was released into Lucian's care. He led her outside to the waiting car, where Cassius sat behind the wheel.
"She's tying up loose ends?" Cassius asked.
"You could say that," Lucian replied.
He looked down at the woman. "You're safe now. I promise."
"Thank you," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
Meanwhile, Charlotte walked alone through the night. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she felt eyes follow her. To men at this hour, she was perfect prey.
The hotel lobby doors chimed open. Dark carpets and the faint scent of cigar smoke greeted her. The bellhop squinted as she approached the counter, her wide, innocent eyes locking onto his.
"You're going to take me to Tony Emilio's penthouse," she said softly. "You'll unlock the door—and then you'll forget you ever saw me."
The bellhop blinked once, then nodded.
"Right this way, miss."
They rode the elevator in silence. When the doors opened, he led her down the hallway, unlocked the door, and walked away without a word.
Jazz music thundered from inside.
The living room was littered with cocaine and empty bottles. Charlotte moved calmly through the space. Near the bedroom, she heard two men talking quietly—security.
The music was too loud for Tony to hear anything.
He didn't hear the sounds of his guards being torn apart. He didn't hear the blood splatter against the white wallpaper.
The bedroom door flew open.
Tony stood frozen, drink in hand, three barely clothed women clinging to him. His robe hung loosely from his shoulders, a cigar clenched between his fingers.
Startled, Tony stumbled backward, crashing over the glass table. The women screamed.
Charlotte turned to them.
"Go hide in the closet," she instructed calmly. "I'll tell you when it's safe."
They obeyed instantly.
Tony lay amid the shards, shaking.
"I—I'm sorry!" he stammered. "They wanted this! I swear!"
"You look afraid," Charlotte said, kneeling beside him, brushing his hair from his face. "Am I scary?"
Tony stared at her, trembling.
"For someone who was just with three women," she continued softly, "why does just one frighten you?"
She stood, leaning against the dresser.
"I know who you are," Tony whispered. "You're my retribution."
Charlotte smiled. "So you've been expecting me?"
Tony slowly edged toward the bed, reaching for the shotgun hidden beneath the comforter.
Charlotte moved faster than he could blink.
The shotgun was in her hands.
Tony covered his mouth. "Help!"
She laughed. "Looks like they're busy."
In an instant, she was on him. Her fangs sank into his throat, tearing him apart piece by piece. She fed viciously, purposefully.
When it was over, Lucian appeared behind her.
"I'll clean this up," he said. "Take the girls home."
Charlotte nodded.
It didn't take long for her reputation to grow.
She rescued women from the ring, erased their memories, and returned them safely to their families. They would never remember the trauma—but Charlotte would.
The Council took notice.
The Supremes, Elders, and Court remembered her trial well. Transformations required purpose. Secrecy mattered.
Charlotte proved herself an asset.
She was quiet. Calculated. Dangerous.
She was elected to the Court.
If there was one thing Charlotte refused, it was cruelty. She fed with control and intention—where others failed, she excelled. Lucian never stopped her. He knew better.
Lucian and Charlotte bonded like siblings. They protected each other. They shared the same morals.
And they hunted men like Tony.
Men like Silas.