The media spun a thousand stories, none close to the truth.
Lucien's death was ruled a suicide. The building collapse blamed on faulty gas lines. No one dared speak of Ava's hand or Kai's wrath. Power changed faces faster than it changed names. And in the chaos, a vacuum emerged.
Kai stepped into it like a king returning to a stolen crown.
But it wasn't a throne he sought.
It was retribution.
---
The Syndicate's remaining leaders crawled from their corners. Men with twisted morals and viper tongues. Ava sat across from them in Kai's penthouse, draped in velvet, legs crossed like a queen they hadn't asked for—but couldn't ignore.
One spoke. "You can't take Lucien's seat. You have no legacy."
Kai laughed, low and sharp. "I am the legacy."
Another man pointed toward Ava. "And what is she? His mistress?"
Ava smiled sweetly. "I'm the reason you're still breathing."
Kai moved before the man could blink. In one fluid motion, he slammed his head into the glass table, cracking both.
"Anyone else want to ask stupid questions?"
Silence.
They voted.
Unanimous.
Kai and Ava now ruled the remnants of the underground empire—but they weren't building a throne.
They were digging graves.
---
The first target was Mathis Graves, a trafficker who'd made a fortune selling futures. Futures of girls like Ava's sister.
Ava and Kai tracked him to a private estate in Monaco, wrapped in sea breezes and silent bodyguards.
She went in dressed like a debutante.
He didn't even recognize her.
Not until the knife slipped through his ribs while her lips whispered, "This is for Mira."
---
Ava changed after each kill.
Kai noticed.
She laughed less. Slept more deeply. Dreamed with clenched fists.
One night, she woke screaming.
"He was holding her again," she gasped. "I couldn't move."
Kai pulled her to his chest. "You moved. You killed him."
"I didn't move fast enough."
He didn't say anything. Just held her until her breathing steadied.
Then he kissed her forehead. Her lips. Her neck.
And when she climbed on top of him, her movements were furious, desperate. She chased control like it was oxygen. He gave her everything. All of him. Always.
She collapsed in his arms. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"If I ever lose myself… bring me back."
Kai kissed her hard. "I'll never let you go."
---
Ava began her own rise in public. She founded a company. A tech shell that covered data espionage. The world saw her as a visionary. A rebel. No one guessed she was also judge, jury, and executioner.
At galas, she wore backless dresses and diamond earrings sharp enough to kill.
Kai stood beside her, suit always impeccable, hands always possessive.
When women looked at him too long, Ava's eyes darkened.
Once, a model slipped him her number. Ava found her in the ladies' room, tore the slip in half, and whispered, "Try it again and I'll break your fingers."
Kai found out.
That night, he tied her hands to the headboard and made her scream his name so many times the neighbors complained.
He wanted her to know: she was the only name that mattered.
---
Not all enemies wore suits.
The one they feared most wore a smile and walked free.
Jericho Black.
Lucien's old partner. A ghost with influence. He'd disappeared after the fall. But not for long.
He resurfaced in Berlin.
And he wanted Kai dead.
"He's not just power-hungry," Zero told them from behind six monitors. "He's surgical. Precise. He'll use your past against you."
"He already is," Ava said, sliding a photo across the table.
It was of Kai. Kissing another woman.
Six years ago.
Ava's hand trembled.
"This is what he does," Kai said. "He digs up rot."
"I need to know," Ava whispered. "Do you still…?"
"No. Never."
They fought that night. The kind of fight that tears skin and builds scars.
Ava slapped him. He didn't flinch.
"You said I was the only one."
"You are."
"Then why does this hurt?"
"Because you love me."
She shoved him. He caught her wrists. She tried to kick him. He lifted her.
Then he kissed her. Violently.
It turned to sex. Brutal. Loud. Real.
After, she lay on the floor beside him, panting.
"Don't make me jealous again."
"Then don't doubt me again."
---
They planned Jericho's downfall like an art piece.
Kai flew to Berlin first, alone. As bait.
Ava followed two days later with Jax and Zero.
Jericho's compound was above a museum. Pretentious. Arrogant.
They infiltrated during a gala. Ava wore red silk. Kai wore blood under his cuffs.
Jericho smiled when he saw them.
"Kai. And the girl who stole your heart."
"She didn't steal it," Kai said. "She claimed it."
Jericho lifted a glass. "And how many others have?"
Ava pulled the trigger before he finished the sentence.
Jericho didn't die right away.
He crawled toward the stage, blood painting the marble.
"You'll never be safe," he gasped. "You wear masks. But underneath… you're monsters."
Kai knelt beside him. "No. We just love each other. That's worse."
He shot him again.
---
The headlines said it was a robbery gone wrong.
Ava and Kai returned to their penthouse.
She stripped in silence. He followed her into the shower.
They didn't speak.
Not until the steam fogged the mirror and their bodies pressed together again.
She whispered, "We're not done."
"Never."
They made love slowly. Painfully slow. It wasn't about lust this time. It was about belief.
In each other.
In their future.
---
Outside, the city screamed and burned.
Inside, they only had eyes for each other.
The past couldn't hurt them now.
Only the future could.
And they were ready.