~ Lucian home ~
~ early morning~
The morning after, Ivy descended the stairs dressed in her usual tactical black. Her expression was blank, unreadable, her steps firm. Lucian was already waiting beside the black SUV, arms folded, dark sunglasses concealing his unreadable gaze. He noticed the slight pause in her steps when she saw him but said nothing. No words passed between them as they entered the vehicle.
She was still avoiding him.
But today wasn't the day for confrontation.
Victor had briefed them earlier—an upstart mafia gang was trafficking weapons through Crimson Reign territory. It was an insult Lucian couldn't ignore.
~Crimson Reign Territory . ~Night Operation~
The operation began just past midnight. Crimson intel had confirmed that an unaffiliated mafia gang was moving weapons through the old Eastside industrial zone — deep in Lucian's territory. Unforgivable. Lucian and Ivy suited up in silence. She'd barely looked at him all day, her posture stiff, responses short. He noticed — but he said nothing. There was a job to do.
They rode in silence, flanked by two black tactical vehicles. Victor had wanted to join the mission, but Lucian had refused. This was personal.
*Scene: Eastside Industrial Zone*
The area was quiet — too quiet. Shadows clung to the crumbling buildings. Ivy scanned the perimeter through thermal goggles. "Six heat signatures inside the main warehouse. Two on the roof. And two more approaching."
Lucian gave a single nod. "We move in pairs. Disarm first wave. No survivors after that."
Ivy smirked faintly. "Got it."
The assault began fast. Ivy slipped through a broken side door, immediately taking down a guard with a silent strike — a blade through the ribs. Lucian moved like a ghost, silenced pistol dispatching two lookouts on the roof before they could blink.
Suddenly, alarms blared.
"They knew we were coming," Ivy hissed.
Dozens of armed men flooded the compound. Gunfire erupted — sharp, rapid bursts. Ivy flipped behind a crate, reloading. Lucian, standing in the open, took down three with clean, brutal shots, then ducked under a metal beam as bullets sprayed.
A grenade bounced near Ivy's cover — she dove, rolled, and it exploded behind her with a deafening bang.
Lucian spun, shooting two men who had flanked him. Then one rushed him with a crowbar. Lucian parried it with his elbow, slammed the man's head into the wall, then kicked him off the ledge.
Meanwhile, Ivy climbed a stack of metal crates, gaining high ground. Her rifle kicked against her shoulder as she took down enemy after enemy. "Left side, four incoming!" she called.
Lucian turned just as they burst out — one of them wielding a shotgun. He dove behind cover, glass shattering above him.
One bullet clipped his arm, but he didn't flinch. He fired back — two down. The other two rushed Ivy's position. She dropped one, jumped down, and slammed her foot into the last man's chest before finishing him at close range.
Breathing hard, they regrouped near the center. Bodies littered the ground. A trail of blood smeared across the concrete. But more were coming.
"I'm going in," Lucian muttered, nodding toward the last guarded truck. Ivy started to respond—but suddenly—
*Bang.*
A single, echoing gunshot cut through the air.
Lucian staggered. His body jerked once, and he dropped to one knee.
Ivy's heart skipped.
"Lucian—!"
He held up a hand, blood already soaking through his tactical suit. A single bullet — high velocity — had pierced just below his ribs.
Ivy shot the sniper, her eyes blazing. She ran to him.
Lucian gritted his teeth. "It's fine. We finish this."
"No. You're bleeding out—"
He cut her off. "Take command. End it."
She hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Cover him!" she barked to the team over comms. "Secure the perimeter and retrieve the weapons!"
As she led the remaining unit into the final truck, her mind buzzed — not with fear, but fury.
Whoever sent this gang into their territory would learn that Crimson Reign never bleeds without vengeance.
*Scene: Crimson Reign Mansion – War Room Debrief (Post-Mission)*
The war room buzzed with tension. A cold, sterile atmosphere cloaked the room, lit by a large LED screen displaying maps, feeds, and logs from the night's operation. Ivy stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, her gaze sharp but unreadable. Her tactical suit still bore blood smudges—none hers.
Around the table sat key figures of Crimson Reign's core: two lieutenants, one field strategist, and the temporary medical lead. Lucian's chair was empty, the bloodied bulletproof vest he wore during the mission draped over it. The sight made Ivy's chest tighten—but she didn't let it show.
Victor entered the room quietly and gave Ivy a short nod. "He's stable. Bullet missed the kidney by a few inches. He's unconscious now, but the doc says he'll recover fully."
A beat of silence followed. Ivy exhaled slowly and turned to the digital board.
"We were compromised," she began, voice calm and controlled. "That gang didn't just stumble into our territory. They were fed intel. Real-time movement, response timing… they knew exactly when and where to hit. This was calculated."
One of the lieutenants, Marcus, leaned forward. "You're suggesting a leak?"
"No," Ivy replied. "I'm confirming it."
A flick of her hand and the footage replayed—the ambush pattern, the flanking precision, and finally, the sniper that hit Lucian. "This isn't random. Someone on the inside sold us out. We need to run facial matches on every corpse at that warehouse. I want affiliations, previous employers, and last digital pings."
Victor glanced at her. "And when we find the one who sold us out?"
Ivy's eyes narrowed. "We don't ask questions. We make an example."
There was a pause.
Marcus looked uneasy. "Lucian wouldn't—"
"He's not here right now," Ivy cut in, her tone edged with quiet steel. "I'm acting until he returns. If anyone has a problem with that, speak now."
No one did.
She turned back to the map. "I also want surveillance on Blackwood's southern division. This whole thing has his fingerprints."
Victor raised a brow. "You think Ravik's behind this?"
"I don't think," she said. "I know."
The war room fell into silence again—cold, tense silence.
"Debrief complete," Ivy said. "Now move."
As the others filed out, Victor lingered. "You handled that like Lucian would've."
Ivy didn't respond right away. Her gaze drifted to the chair again.
"No," she said quietly. "Lucian would've handled it better."
Then she turned and walked out, her steps sharp and unwavering
Outside the war room, the mansion was still. Guards patrolled quietly. The night air was heavy.
Ivy paused by Lucian's door before walking past. She wasn't ready to see him yet.
Not when her blood still boiled.
Not when vengeance wasn't complete.