*Chapter 1: The Queen Who Burns*
There was no crown on her head,
but the room bowed to her anyway.
Queenza walked through the glass doors of the Velvet Orchid — her base, her sanctuary, her kingdom. Every step she took echoed power. Every glance she gave silenced rooms. Dressed in a black silk suit and heels sharp enough to kill, she was both queen and weapon.
Men twice her size lowered their heads. No one dared meet her gaze for long. The tattoos curling down her spine, barely visible beneath her open back, whispered stories no one dared to ask about.
She lit a cigarette with steady fingers, eyes scanning the floor.
This was her world.
Built from ash.
Built from blood.
Built without help from anyone — especially not from the family that tried to destroy her.
She remembered the screams. The belt. The bruises. The way her mother called her a mistake. The way her brothers laughed when she bled. That night, when her father struck her hard enough to make the walls shake — something broke.
Something deep.
Something ancient.
And something dangerous.
The thing that rose from her pain was no longer a girl.
It was a monster.
And it saved her life.
Now, that monster obeyed her.
But tonight, she felt it stir — restless, watching. Something was coming.
"Boss," came a low voice beside her. Dante, her second-in-command. "There's a gathering tonight. High level. Underground. Not the usual rats. Rumor is… Kael Morvanti will be there."
Queenza froze mid-step.
*Kael.*
The King of the North. A man known for war, silence, and death. He never smiled. Never touched. Never showed weakness.
They said no woman had ever gotten close to him. That his heart was a frozen vault no one could unlock.
Good.
Queenza wasn't looking for warmth.
"Send word," she said calmly. "Tell them the Queen of the Blue Lotus will attend."
**
Hours later, the abandoned opera hall pulsed with tension. Gold masks, silk gowns, weapons hidden in sleeves. Power was thick in the air — and fear even thicker.
Queenza entered without a mask. Her presence was the mask.
Heads turned. Murmurs spread.
That's her. The one with the cursed eyes. The girl who killed her own bloodline. The queen who answers to no man.
She took a glass of red wine but didn't drink.
And then… she felt it.
Like a storm entering the room.
Like cold steel brushing her skin.
She turned — slowly — and saw *him*.
Kael Morvanti. Dressed in black, eyes like carved ice. Surrounded by guards yet utterly alone.
Their eyes locked.
Time didn't stop — it shattered.
Something in his chest pulled tight. Something in hers coiled like fire.
He walked toward her. Slowly. Deliberately.
No one dared move.
When he reached her, he didn't speak right away. He looked her up and down — not like a man admiring a woman, but like a ruler studying an equal.
And then he said — softly, dangerously:
*"I've heard of you."*
Queenza smirked. *"Then you know not to waste my time."*
Kael's lips curved — the faintest ghost of a smile.
The room exhaled, tension broken.
But inside both of them — something ancient shifted.
Not love.
Not lust.
Recognition.
Two broken empires.
Two cursed souls.
And maybe, just maybe…
The beginning of war.
Or something far worse —
*The beginning of fate.*
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