The shadows peeled back from the edges of the graveyard like curtains at the start of a performance. Edel stepped into the open light, clad in her tactical black suit blazer that Hugo had hoped would be used for good, boots heavy on the grass, her tiger mask catching the sun's dying rays, her amethyst eyes glowing beneath them, colder. Her guns hung at her sides—sleek, black, hungry for blood.

Below the hill where she stood, a gathering of mourners clothed in black stood in solemn rows. They had gathered to honor a beloved philanthropist—a city icon known for championing social causes and advocating for peace. High-profile figures were in attendance: city officials, media moguls, and celebrities. A perfect stage.

Edel tilted her head. A memory flickered—she'd been to this place before. As a teenager. As a daughter. But the mask tightened, burning her skin, forcing the thoughts away.

Senyum's voice slithered into her mind:

"Let them grieve in blood."

Without a second longer, Edel raised both arms and opened fire.

The peaceful silence was shattered. Screams pierced the air like broken glass. Bodies crumpled to the earth as mourners fled in all directions, some stumbling over tombstones, others clutching at loved ones. Security scrambled, but they were no match for Edel's precision and power. They tried to open fire at her, but their bullets bounced off her clothes like rubber. They aimed for her head, but she shot them down before they could even pull the trigger.

When the massacre had ended, the air was thick with smoke and the iron tang of blood. Silence returned—but it was a different kind now. The silence of fresh corpses.

Edel stood among the fallen, guns still warm in her hands. Something pulled at her, deeper into the graveyard. Her steps grew slower, more uncertain, as if some deeper part of her—buried but not dead—was waking up.

She stopped when she reached a familiar row.

Her family's graves.

She stared at the names engraved in stone:

Rhiannon. Giancarlo. Declan. Her mother. Her father. Her sisters. Her brothers.

She fell to her knees.

A tear slipped down her cheek, cutting through the dirt. Her hands trembled as they reached out to touch the cold marble.

"Senyum," she whispered. "Please. Bring them back."

The shadows answered.

They surged from the tree line like a black tide, swirling around the graves. Edel stood back as tendrils of smoke coiled around the headstones. The ground trembled softly at first, then violently. Cracks split the earth.

One by one, they emerged from the soil, not as shambling corpses, but whole. Flesh restored. Clothes immaculate. Eyes wide, confused... and alive.

Her mother clutched at her chest, gasping for breath. Her father held Rhiannon protectively. Her younger sister sobbed, confused. They were exactly as she remembered.

Some blinked in wonder. Others stared at Edel in horror.

"Edel?" her mother asked. "Is that... you?"

Edel reached out a shaking hand, mask still fixed to her face. "You're alive... I brought you back. I—I did it."

Her father stepped forward. "What did you do?"

Behind Edel, Senyum's form shimmered at the edge of reality—just out of their sight, but fully present in hers.

"You should be grateful," Edel muttered, her voice straining with the remnants of the spell, emotions slipping through the cracks. "You're here. We can be a family again."

Her mother recoiled slightly. "What have you done, Edel?"

Rhiannon looked straight into her, pain blooming in her face. "You killed those people... didn't you?"

The words hit her like a slap.

And behind her, Senyum cackled.

Edel's breath hitched.

Her family—alive, confused, afraid—stared at her like a stranger. They couldn't see her behind the mask, couldn't recognize who she had become. The mask burned hotter on her skin, the enchantment straining against her will.

"Hugo," she whispered, grabbing Rhiannon's trembling hands. "Find Hugo. He can help. He'll know what to do."

Rhiannon tried to hold on, but Edel's body jerked violently. Her eyes glowed brighter, flickering like unstable neon. The mind-control spell recoiled from her desperate act of resistance, lashing back harder.

"Go!" Edel screamed, her voice splitting between two tones—her own and something darker beneath it. "GO!"

Her limbs twitched and spasmed as she stumbled back, turning from them, trying to vanish into the shadows before the spell forced her to harm the people she'd once loved.

The shadows welcomed her like old friends. She vanished, eyes gleaming faintly behind the tiger mask, a predator, even to her own family.

But she didn't escape untouched.

The voices inside her head—Senyum's command, the screeching laughter of the Maskers, the phantom whispers of corrupted Smeyling chants—all converged like a chorus of knives. To silence them, to feel peace even for a moment, she needed more blood.

Edel's body moved before her thoughts could stop it.

There was a nearby art museum—crowded, prestigious, full of people who didn't expect a gun-wielding girl in a tiger mask to burst through the skylight.

Screams echoed again. Glass rained down. Paintings were stained red. The voices dulled for a moment... enough for Edel to feel relief.

And then—

A shimmer in the shadows.

A grinning face with only one glowing eye. The Masker.

"I told you. We're not so different after all," the Masker snarled, slinking forward like an oil-slick creature. "All this pageantry. All this bloodshed. And for what? You've lost yourself to it completely, haven't you? Wearing a mask and pretending you're anything but broken."

Edel stared at him, trembling. Her breathing grew sharp. "I... I didn't choose this."

The Masker laughed, high and shrill. "Yes, you did. Your mind is weak. You gave in to it. That's how you fell prey to someone like Senyum."

"No, I didn't..." Her voice cracked. Her thoughts unraveled. But she couldn't piece together the truth—not clearly. The magic fogged it, rewrote it.

"Forget it," the Masker hissed. "Go run back to Senyum like the mindless, desperate pet you are."

Edel stood frozen, the echoes of the Masker's voice slithering through her mind like barbed wire. Her fingers clenched around her guns, blood still warm on her gloves. The mask on her face pulsed like a second heartbeat, tightening its grip every time her thoughts strayed too far from the script it wanted her to follow.

She wanted to scream. To rip it off. To be herself again—if she could even remember who that was.

But the Masker's words stuck.

"You gave in to it."

Had she?

She remembered nothing from the night Astrid came. Just heat. Fog. A kiss. Then darkness, and now this... monstrous version of herself.

"Don't look so surprised," the Masker said, circling her like a shark. "You're not the first to break. But Senyum? He likes the broken ones. Likes piecing them back together wrong." He leaned in closer, his breath cold and sharp like dry ice. "You think this is the worst it gets? You haven't even woken up yet."

"I'm not his," Edel whispered, her voice barely audible. Her knees buckled slightly. "I'm not..."

"Not what?" the Masker sneered. "Not his? Not a host for a parasite like him?"

Edel's head snapped up, and for a moment—just a flicker—her eyes glowed not with magic, but with rage. Her lips curled back in defiance. But the spell wrapped tighter, and the surge of resistance vanished as quickly as it came.

Her limbs moved without her.

The Masker tilted his head, amused. "That's what I thought."

And like a marionette dragged back into position, Edel turned away, disappearing into the shadows, back toward the cult, back toward the others who laughed and whispered about her behind her back.

When she arrived, one Smeyling grinned and rested a great hand upon her blood-streaked shoulder.

"Welcome home, neophyte," they cooed mockingly. "Did you get your task done today?"

"She always does," a cultist chimed in, staring at her as she passed by. "Sen's little darling wouldn't let us down."

They laughed. Edel said nothing.

But behind her mask, tears welled—silent, unseen, and quickly swallowed by the magic that still refused to let her go.

One of the cultists kicked back on a cracked stone bench, grinning as he tossed a bloody knife from hand to hand. "Remember when she used to hunt us?" he chuckled, nodding toward Edel's quiet, motionless form by the fire. "Back when she had that big righteous complex?"

The others laughed, their cackles echoing off the warped walls of their lair. The sound was thick with mockery, distorted and giddy, like children taunting a doll they'd broken on purpose.

"She was a real menace," said another. "Guns blazing and all."

"She always had this serious face of defiance on," the one with the stitched veil said, pointing. "Piercing eyes, tight jaw, uptight posture, square shoulders. And now? Look at her."

They all turned to look.

Edel sat in silence, hands limp in her lap, her tiger-faced mask catching the firelight with a shiny gleam. She was still—unnaturally still—like a puppet awaiting its next tug on the strings

One of them danced closer to her, twirling in place with the grace of a ragged ballerina. "Behold," she whispered with glee, "our great Host. Senyum's prize pet. The hunter made hound."

The group erupted in snickering agreement.

But somewhere, deep beneath Edel's mask and the mind control and the madness, something still clawed at the walls.

A name. A face.

Karina.

------

Astrid returned to Perchance's parlor just as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Her body ached—Edel had been rough that night, almost animalistic in her hunger—and the bruises were still fresh beneath her clothes. Edel had fallen into a heavy, unnatural sleep afterward, unmoving for days. With Edel unconscious and unknowing, Astrid took the opportunity to slip away and recover in her safehouse.

But rest wasn't all she sought.

While Edel slept, Astrid had wandered the hidden corners of her world. She combed through files, digital logs, private notes—everything that was left wide open. Edel's crimefighting program was far more advanced than Astrid imagined, clearly a work of a genius. But what caught her attention most was a name buried beneath layers of private notes.

Karina.

There were photos. Journal entries. Surveillance tags Edel never deleted.

It didn't take long for Astrid to see it clearly: Karina wasn't just another name. She was someone Edel still held close—too close.

Astrid's chest tightened with a strange cocktail of bitterness and obsession. She didn't want to share Edel's heart. Not with Karina. Not with anyone.

But she didn't leave empty-handed.

Before slipping out of Edel's place, Astrid copied one crucial piece of footage—the recording on her phone from the night she drugged Edel. It captured Edel clinging to her, touching her, whispering her name with something like love in her voice. The memory disgusted and delighted Astrid at once. It was a warped truth, but a powerful one.

It was proof. A weapon.

On her way back to Perchance's parlor, Astrid stopped by a drugstore. There had been a suspicion lingering in her mind—one she'd refused to entertain until now. She bought a pregnancy test with shaking hands.

Minutes later, standing in the dim bathroom light, she stared at the result.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

For a moment, she was frozen in disbelief, the reality pressing down on her like cold stone. Her fingers gripped the sink. Her heart raced.

Then, slowly, the panic dulled... and something else began to bloom.

Opportunity.

She looked at her reflection—tired, bruised, but smiling now, proud.

This child, unplanned and inconvenient, could become the final lock on Edel's heart. The ultimate tether.

Astrid whispered to herself, brushing a hand over her stomach.

"Now she'll never leave me."

When Astrid stepped into the parlor, the stale scent of incense and old weed met her nose. The place was quiet—eerily so. Only Perchance was there, slouched on the couch with his crystal ball glowing faintly on the table in front of him, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. He looked up the moment he sensed her. "Astrid!"

She glanced around. "Where's Charlotte? And Tabo?"

Perchance lazily waved a hand. "Out. They went to go learn how to drive. Apparently, I'm too unreliable and you're—" He gave her a look. "Well. You."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Right. I wonder how that's going for them."

Perchance snorted but didn't argue. He kept his eyes trained on the swirling glass, scribbling a few notes in a coffee-stained notebook. "Ebony's still bruised. They brought in some new guys, too. Reaper Records is definitely beefing up security."

Astrid sat down across from him, her movements careful. "What are you doing?"

"Spying on the mafia. Charlotte and Tabo are planning to sabotage them."

"Oh really? While you're snooping around on that, can you do something else for me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Lady Astrid?"

"Well," she said, tone clipped. "I need you to locate Karina."

Perchance blinked. "Karina? As in... Karina Marjello or whatever her name was?"

Astrid met his gaze. "Yes. I have something I want to tell her."

There was a long beat of silence. Then Perchance shrugged, still scribbling. "Sure. I can do that. But not right now. Gotta finish taking notes on these mafia goons, or Charlotte'll roast me alive. We'll go tonight."

Astrid tapped her fingers against the table. "Fine. Tonight."

"Where are they now?"

"Somewhere nearby," he said, squinting into the orb again. "Though if you go to them, don't be surprised if they're not thrilled to see you. Disappearing for three days without a peep doesn't exactly earn you friend-of-the-month."

Astrid sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "I'll deal with it. I might as well help out while we wait for tonight."

Perchance smirked, not unkindly, the corners of his mouth twitching with relief. "Good luck with that. But man... It's really good to have you back. You're kind of like... my only real friend in the world."

Astrid paused at that, the weight of his words hanging between them. She looked at him quietly, sincerity flickering behind her tired eyes. "Thank you, Perchance."

He gave a sheepish shrug, then tilted his head. "So... how'd it go with Edel?"

Astrid let out a slow breath. "Well... I gave her the drug you gave me. And I think it's safe to say... she got me pregnant."

Perchance blinked. "Wait. What? You're serious?"

"Yeah." She crossed her arms, tone flat. "You remember how you said it could have unpredictable side effects? And, well... I guess this was one of them."

His jaw dropped. "But that was just supposed to soften her—emotionally! Not... knock you up! I didn't even know that was possible."

Astrid ran a hand through her hair. "Neither did I. But here we are." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

Perchance placed a hand over his heart. "Your secret is safe with me, Lady Astrid."

She gave a single nod. "I'm keeping the baby."

He raised his eyebrows, unsure how to respond.

"And," she continued, her voice hardening with purpose, "I want Edel. Fully. You remember how you said her family would've paid you ten million if you helped her out?"

He nodded, slowly.

"Well, if I join her family—truly join them—I'll have access to everything. Her whole net worth. Her power. And when that happens? I'll give you more than ten million."

Perchance blinked again, then laughed—a low, incredulous chuckle. "Holy hell, Astrid. That's... that's evil-genius level. And kind of terrifying."

She smiled. "I know."

He leaned back against the wall, eyes wide. "I like the sound of that. Count me in. Honestly? I'm so glad I met you. You really do come up with the best plans."

Astrid gave him a look—equal parts charm and danger. "Just make sure you don't forget whose side you're on."

Perchance gave a mock salute. "Always yours, Lady Astrid. Ride or die."

------

The hill overlooked the city like a private altar. The sun had just dipped behind the skyline, casting the sky in smears of violet and crimson. Karina stood quietly at the overlook—a hidden place she and Edel used to come to. The place where Edel would ramble about her wild theories and big plans, and Karina would sit, listening and laughing, holding Edel's hand under the stars.

"Beautiful view," a silky voice said behind her.

Karina spun around.

A girl stood leaning against the railing like she belonged there, with wavy brown hair and clothes that were meant to seduce anyone who laid eyes on her, with a smile that was all knife and sugar.

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously, standing straighter.

The woman smiled, slow and smug. "You don't know me. But I know you. Everyone knows you, Princess of L.A. Karina Margiela. Daughter of a billionaire." She glanced around the hilltop. "This place means something to you. Must be where all the sweet memories live."

Karina's spine straightened. "And you are?"

"Astrid," she purred. "Let's just say... Edel and I are close." She stepped forward, closer than comfort allowed. "Very close."

Karina's expression didn't waver, but her heart beat harder. "You've seen her?"

Astrid smirked. "I've tasted her."

Karina's lips parted just slightly. It was the smallest crack, and Astrid dove in.

"First kiss. First touch. First girlfriend," Astrid whispered like venom. "She came to me broken, depressed, and alone. And you? Nowhere to be found."

"You're lying," Karina snapped.

"Am I?" Astrid's voice oozed with mock concern. "Then tell me—why hasn't she called? Why hasn't she come for you? You were her whole world once, right? So where is she now?"

Karina's fists tightened at her sides, her nails digging crescents into her palms.

Astrid leaned in, her voice lowering like a spell. "She told me she's never trusted anyone like she trusts me." Her eyes burned with cruel delight. "Not even you. We've shared things you can't even picture. You say you love her? Funny—she was moaning my name."

And then, with a wicked grin, Astrid slipped her phone from her coat pocket.

"Want proof?"

She tapped the screen and held it out between them. A video began to play. Muffled sounds. Breathless whispers. And then, clear as crystal—

"I love you... more than Karina."

Karina froze. Her breath caught. Her vision blurred for a moment—rage, heartbreak, disbelief crashing together like a wave.

Then she slapped Astrid across the face.

Crack.

The sound rang out over the hilltop like a gunshot, cutting through the twilight air.

Astrid's head jerked to the side, but she only smiled, touching her lip where it had split slightly. "There she is," she said, voice low and gleeful. "The real you. Not a princess. Not the darling of L.A. Just a girl from Edel's past."

Karina's voice was steel. "Where is she? What have you done?"

Astrid wiped her lip with the back of her hand. "I'm giving her what you couldn't. Love. Comfort. Belonging."

"You're using her," Karina spat.

"No," Astrid growled, her voice dropping. "I'm healing her."

Karina stared at her. "You came all the way here to convince me of that? No. You came because you're jealous. Because Edel still loves me—and deep down, you know it."

Astrid's face darkened. "'Loved' you. Past tense. I'm the only one in her heart now."

Then, without warning, Astrid lunged—fingernails like claws, hand aimed at Karina's throat, intending to injure or even kill.

Karina staggered back, slamming into the stone railing. Her heel slipped—but instinct kicked in. Edel's self-defense lessons surged up from memory. She ducked, twisted, and shoved Astrid away.

"You think I came here alone?" Karina hissed, pulling a small device from her coat. She pressed the panic button. Somewhere nearby, her bodyguards would already be closing in.

Astrid's eyes narrowed. "You're not as stupid as you look."

Karina smoothed her jacket. "Who do you think I am?"

Astrid leaned in one last time, her voice a velvet threat. "I'm already under her skin, sweetheart. Try and stop me."

Karina stared her down. "Edel won't let this continue. This isn't a game."

Astrid smiled faintly. "Oh, but it is. And for the record—she's the one who got me pregnant."

Karina's expression shattered. "What...?"

But before she could recover, before she could demand answers, Astrid vanished—dissolving into the shadows, leaving behind the echo of her words and the hollow sting of her presence.

Karina stood alone again—but now she was shaking.

The hillside was quiet again, but the silence felt cruel.

Karina stood frozen where Astrid had left her—still catching the whiff of that strong, distinctive perfume, still hearing her mocking voice whispering that she'd stolen everything. The hillside, once a sanctuary, had turned cruel in its silence. The wind cut sharper now, slapping her cheeks as if to remind her of the slap she'd given—and the slap to her heart she'd just received. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the panic device, its blinking red light the only thing grounding her. Her breath caught, shallow and fast. The bile of jealousy, heartbreak, and fury surged up her throat.

She tasted her. First kiss. First night.

The words spun in her head like knives, each one carving deeper into her chest.

"No," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Astrid had said what Karina feared the most—which wasn't that Edel had truly died and was unreachable, but that she had moved on. That she had found warmth in someone else's arms, and not just anyone's—a seductress who oozed malice from every pore, who clearly intended to keep Edel isolated, used, and blind.

Does she love her now?

The thought sank like lead.

Karina's vision blurred with tears. She pressed her hand to her chest as if to hold her heart together. She had loved Edel deeply—loved her brilliance, her humor, the way she'd hold her with so much love and affection. She had spent nights praying Edel had somehow escaped the fire. She had grieved alone, behind mansion gates and on private jets and flawless makeup.

Now she wasn't grieving. She was breaking.

Her knees gave out, and she collapsed to the stone, sobs erupting from her chest before she could stop them.

That was how her guards found her—crumpled against the stone railing, her perfect hair messed up, her fur coat sliding from her shoulders. The woman they had sworn to protect, the heiress, the "Princess of L.A."—undone.

"Signorina!" One of the guards dropped beside her, his voice full of panic.

"Was she attacked?" another barked, eyes scanning the shadows, hand already on his earpiece.

Karina shook her head, unable to speak. The tears came in waves, violent and unrelenting.

"I don't know where she is," she finally choked out. "I don't know where Edel is—and I don't know who that woman was. She knew everything. She said she had her."

Her head fell into her hands.

"What if she doesn't love me anymore?"

The guards stood frozen for a moment—trained for threats, for stalkers, for kidnapping attempts—but not for this. Not for heartbreak.

The one kneeling beside her gently helped her to her feet.

"We're here. What happened, Miss Karina?" he said softly.

Karina wiped her face with the back of her trembling hand, mascara streaked down her cheeks, and then straightened, her shoulders rising as she forced back the last of her tears. The panic device slipped from her hand and clattered against the floor. She glared up at her guards—five stalwart figures who had sworn to protect her at any cost.

"How," she began, voice low and icy, "did that... that volpe slip past you?"

The lead guard stepped forward, jaw set. "Signorina, the estate is expansive, and we didn't anticipate a threat. You were in a secure location and–"

"It could have gone much worse!" she snapped. "I could've been hurt—or killed! You're lucky I don't tell my father about this... embarrassment," She took a breath, regaining command of herself. "I want her found."

Every guard in the semicircle snapped to attention.

"Her name is Astrid," Karina said, voice sharp. "She's a woman in her early twenties, light-skinned, about five-foot-five, with long, wavy brown hair, and green eyes. She was wearing a black long-sleeve and short skirt."

Karina paced a step forward, the fur coat brushing the floor. "I don't care how much it takes. I want every security camera checked, every informant questioned. I want to know who she is. She knows Edel's whereabouts. She could lead me back to her."

The lead guard bowed his head. "Yes, Signorina. We'll mobilize immediately."

"Use everything we have," Karina added. "Every contact. Every camera. Every favor. I want her name, her history, her blood type if you can get it."

"And when we find her?" the guard asked.

Karina's voice turned cold.

"Then she'll learn not to mess with me ever again."

------

The Monclerchanteau family had somehow made their way back to Hugo's office—eleven of them, not including Edel—filling the modest space with an eerie, uneasy presence. They stood in silence, still adjusting to the impossible: resurrection in full form after over three years in death's grasp.

Hugo stood frozen, eyes scanning the room, disbelief hollowing out his breath. "You... all of you... You're really here." His voice cracked.

Lorraine, Edel's mother, stepped forward. Her eyes shimmered with emotion, but her tone was somber. "She's changed, Hugo. She wore a mask—shaped like a tiger. She's become a killer. The price she paid to bring us back... I don't know if it was worth it."

Hugo's expression darkened as the weight of Edel's absence hit him. That's why she vanished for days... A pang of guilt twisted in his gut. I should've checked on her sooner.

He sank into his chair, fingers steepled, thinking. "She made the impossible happen. And paid for it in blood."

He turned to them. "Your inheritance is still secure in the Swiss account. I can get you all relocated—off the grid. But how the public reacts to your return... That's another matter entirely."

"It was the mafia who targeted you," Hugo continued, glancing at Garret. "Likely retaliation for your crackdown on their operations."

Garret nodded grimly. "Then disappearing is our safest option. But Edel brought us back. As much as I opposed the idea... we can't abandon her now. If she's fighting, we need to be here—for her, and maybe even with her."

"So what now?" Hugo asked, scanning the group. "She won't ask for help. She's too afraid of losing anyone again. And if what Lorraine says is true... she's on a path of vengeance. One she may not come back from."

"And if she's under someone else's influence," Hugo added, lowering his voice, "then it may already be too late."

"The FBI's looking for her," he continued. "And conspiracy theories are exploding. Some think the Monclerchanteaus faked their deaths as part of some PR stunt. She's being hunted. Every life she takes will just tighten the net around her."

Rhiannon, Edel's younger sister, clenched her fists. "Then we have to stop her. We can't let her keep killing. She'd never forgive herself."

Hugo exhaled slowly. "Can we stop her without killing her? Whatever deal she's made might've corrupted her mind beyond our reach."

"We have to try," Rhiannon said. "She's still in there. Somewhere. I know she is."

Hugo hesitated. Then: "Karina's hosting a charity gala in a few days. Getty Villa. High-profile guests. It'd be the perfect target if Edel's spiraling. She might show up."

"Then we'll be there," said Marlee, the eldest sister, stepping forward with quiet resolve. "If she sees us—really sees us—it might break whatever magic's in her. Or at least delay whatever plan she's following."

"We only get one chance," Hugo warned. "If she's too far gone... it won't just be risky. It could be deadly."

Lorraine looked around at her family, at the people she'd thought she'd never see again. "We didn't come back from the dead to lose her now."