Liam lay flat on his back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling of his room. A soft glow from the wall lamp painted the space in a dull warmth. His right hand, now wrapped snugly in a bandage, rested across his chest.
Lilith had insisted he go to the hospital after what happened in the restaurant. He wasn’t too keen on the idea, but she’d given him that look—the one that meant "you don’t have a choice." So, he went. Turned out the wood from the broken chair had pierced deeper than he realized. It hadn’t felt like much at the time—he was too full of adrenaline and fury—but it bled badly. The doctor said he was lucky it didn’t do worse damage.
Still, Liam wasn’t worried.
With his system-enhanced recovery, he knew the wound would be gone by tomorrow morning. It was just a matter of resting up.
He was just about to close his eyes when a soft knock echoed on his door.
He sighed.
Again?
Dragging himself out of bed, he crossed the room and pulled the door open. His brows lifted slightly.
It was Ella.
She stood there in soft, silky nightwear that clung gently to her curves. A light, lacy tank top hugged her chest without a bra beneath it, making the outline of her nipples clearly visible under the thin fabric. The shorts she wore sat high on her thighs, showing off her long, smooth legs. Her hair was loose, cascading around her shoulders, her face lit softly by the hallway light.
Liam blinked once.
Then whispered quietly to himself, "How are her breasts this big..."
He quickly shook the thought from his mind and straightened up, clearing his throat. "Uh, you need something?"
Ella gave a soft smile, eyes briefly dropping to his bandaged arm. "Just wanted to check on you," she said gently.
Liam raised his injured hand halfway, flexing his fingers. "Already getting better. Nothing to worry about."
She nodded, satisfied. "Good. Then sleep tight, Liam."
With a little smile, she turned and walked back toward her room. Liam’s eyes, against his better judgment, followed her until she vanished behind her door.
He stood there for a second, frowning at himself.
"...What was that for?" he muttered, then closed the door behind him.
He fell back onto the bed with a tired groan. His mind was still a mess of images from earlier that night—Lilith’s rage, the blood, the chaos—but now it was mixed with Ella’s silhouette, her soft voice, and the ghost of her smile.
He pulled the blanket over himself and shut his eyes.
Tomorrow’s a big day. Gotta sleep.
---
When Liam opened his eyes again, the light of dawn was already peeking through the blinds. He got up, cleaned himself quickly, changed clothes, and stepped outside.
As fate would have it, Lilith walked out of her room at the same time. She looked as gorgeous and commanding as ever, dressed in her usual sleek black with her golden-blonde hair tied into a high ponytail. Her face was unreadable.
Waiting outside was Ella, dressed more casually this time in a snug jacket and jeans, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
The three of them met without needing to say much. There was an air of purpose between them.
Together, they walked the familiar path back toward the old basket court they had visited yesterday.
But something felt different this time.
The moment they stepped into the open court, Liam noticed it.
In the middle of the court were five figures, seated calmly on wooden benches that hadn’t been there the day before. They didn’t look like regular civilians. There was a stillness about them, a weight in the air. He recognized lady Viora from yesterday.
One of them—a man in his fifties, with rough skin, short white hair, and a deep scar that ran diagonally across his face—looked directly at Lilith.
He smiled.
Lilith stopped walking.
Liam did too, looking at her in confusion.
She wasn’t smiling.
She wasn’t even scowling.
She was glaring.
But not like usual. This wasn’t the smug, seductive smirk she gave when she wanted to assert dominance. No. This was something else.
Her entire face was twisted with hate. Pure, sharp, unfiltered hatred.
Liam had never seen her look like this before.
Not when she killed.
Not when she fought.
Not even when she was threatened.
This was different.
It wasn’t about power or pride. It was personal.
Liam’s body tensed instinctively.
Who the hell was that guy...?
Lilith stopped staring at the man and made her way toward the center table, taking a calm seat opposite Boss, Khan, and the other gang members who had come with numbers and tension in their eyes. In contrast, Lilith had only brought Liam and Ella.
The moment Boss’s eyes landed on Liam, his expression shifted. Surprise. Confusion. A flicker of rage. The boy he thought had learned his lesson, the one he’d broken before, now sat with his rival. Traitor. But Liam didn’t spare Boss a glance. The older man could wait. Liam had already marked him for death—just not yet. No, Liam’s attention was locked on someone else.
Khan.
Across the room, Khan sat with that same cold mask covering half his face, but the slight curl of his lips beneath it made Liam’s blood boil. He remembered all too well the last time they’d faced each other—Amanda’s house, blood, humiliation. Khan had made a joke out of him. But that was then. Liam had changed. Trained. Evolved. And this time, it would be different. This time, he would have the upper hand.
Ella, poised and calm, took her seat next to Liam while her eyes casually swept the room. She felt the tension too, like sparks waiting for dry grass.
Lilith didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. The entire court fell into a respectful silence the moment Lady Viora rose to her feet.
Her presence alone demanded attention.
"Let us begin," she said, her voice cold and sharp like broken glass. "Following the recent destruction of several Crimson Hand drug labs, this meeting has been called to address the implications."
The room responded with nods and murmurs of agreement. Whispers floated like dust in sunlight. Fear. Concern. The Crimson Hand was a power player, and someone had dismantled parts of its empire. Whoever it was had shaken the balance.
The gangs seated around the court—each powerful in their own corners—had grown cautious. The Crimson Hand getting hit meant no one was untouchable. And worse, no one knew who did it.
Lady Viora continued, eyes sweeping the crowd. "Our businesses have suffered since. Movements are stalled. Profits delayed. Fear spreads. We must find out who is behind this disruption."
All eyes turned to Lilith. The figure most likely to benefit from the Crimson Hand’s misfortune.
Lilith said nothing. She simply crossed one leg over the other, elegance and danger laced into her posture. Ella remained still, eyes alert. Liam only had one thought: Khan. The bastard was still smiling.
The game had begun.
And this time, everyone had something to lose.