A Throne of Ashes

The waves crashed violently against the cliffs below Marchesi's ruined estate, the scent of salt and blood lingering in the night air.

Ariella stood over Marchesi's lifeless body, her gun still warm in her hand.

For the first time in a long time—

There was silence.

No more threats.

No more battles to plan.

The last true remnant of the Order of the Black Key was gone.

She should have felt victorious.

But all she could think was—

What now?

The Aftermath of Marchesi's Fall

Leo stepped beside her, his gaze sharp, unwavering. "We need to move. His men will figure out what happened soon."

Ariella exhaled, sliding her gun back into its holster. "Then let's burn what's left."

Carter gave her a nod before setting explosive charges throughout the compound. Vincent, ever the showman, took his time lighting a cigarette before tossing it onto the pool of gasoline spreading across the floor.

Flames erupted instantly.

The team stepped back, watching Marchesi's empire crumble into fire and smoke.

Vincent smirked. "Poetic, don't you think?"

Ariella's expression was unreadable. "No."

Because poetry implied beauty.

And there was nothing beautiful about this war.

The private jet touched down just before dawn, the London skyline hazy in the distance as Ariella and her team stepped back onto familiar ground.

Vincent stretched. "God, I missed my whiskey collection."

Carter rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

Leo didn't say anything. He just watched Ariella, as if sensing the weight pressing down on her.

As they entered the Devereux estate, she finally exhaled.

She was home.

But for the first time in years—

She didn't know what home was supposed to feel like anymore.

That evening, Ariella sat alone in the study, staring at the old Devereux family crest carved into the marble fireplace.

She had spent so much of her life fighting, surviving, tearing things down.

Now, she was standing on the ashes of everything she had destroyed.

And it felt…

Empty.

Leo stepped in, closing the door behind him. "Talk to me."

Ariella smirked. "Isn't that usually my line?"

Leo sat across from her, his expression unreadable. "You won. But you don't look like someone who feels victorious."

Ariella leaned back. "I don't know what comes next."

Leo tilted his head. "Then what do you want?"

Ariella hesitated.

Because the truth was—

She had no idea.

For so long, she had been defined by her enemies.

Now that they were gone, she wasn't sure who she was anymore.

A Warning in the Dark

Just as Ariella allowed herself to breathe, Carter entered the study, his expression grim.

"We have a problem."

Ariella's stomach tightened. "What is it?"

Carter set down an unmarked black folder on the desk. "This arrived thirty minutes ago. No return address."

Ariella flipped it open—

And her blood ran cold.

Inside were files detailing every move she had made in the past six months.

Surveillance photos.

Transaction records.

Documents proving someone had been watching her, tracking her.

Leo grabbed one of the photos, his jaw tightening. "Who the hell has this kind of reach?"

Carter's voice was clipped. "Someone we don't know yet."

Vincent walked in, pouring himself a drink. "Oh, come on, did we really think killing Marchesi would be the end of this?"

Ariella ignored the way her pulse pounded.

This wasn't over.

Someone was still out there.

Someone who knew everything.

And if they were watching her—

They were coming.

An Unexpected Contact

Hours later, as the team worked through the intelligence, Carter's phone buzzed.

He frowned. "Unknown number."

Ariella's stomach twisted. "Answer it."

Carter put the call on speaker.

A smooth, unfamiliar voice filled the room.

"Miss Devereux. I was wondering when you'd come looking for me."

Ariella's grip tightened. "Who is this?"

A low chuckle. "I go by many names. But for now? Let's just say I'm the man who's been cleaning up the mess you left behind."

Leo's jaw clenched. "What do you want?"

The voice darkened. "To offer you a choice."

Ariella exhaled. "I don't take orders."

Another chuckle. "Neither do I. Which is why we should talk."

Ariella glanced at Leo before responding.

"Fine," she said. "Where?"

There was a pause—then, the voice returned, amused.

"You already know."

The line went dead.

Ariella inhaled sharply.

Because she did know.

This was a game—

And she had just been invited to play.

The next evening, Ariella, Leo, Carter, and Vincent arrived at an exclusive underground club in Geneva, the kind of place where the world's most powerful men whispered in the dark.

Ariella walked in first, her heels clicking against the polished floors, every movement calculated.

And then—

She saw him.

A man dressed in a tailored black suit, sipping whiskey at the bar like he owned the world.

When he turned to face her, he smiled.

Ariella's breath stilled.

Because she recognized him.

Alistair Devereux.

Her uncle.

A man she had believed to be dead.

Ariella didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Because this wasn't possible.

Alistair had been erased.

Yet here he was, alive, powerful, waiting for her.

He raised his glass. "You look like your father."

Ariella's fingers curled into fists.

"I watched you die."

Alistair smirked. "You saw what the Order wanted you to see."

Leo's body tensed beside her, every muscle locked in place.

Vincent let out a low whistle. "Well, well. I do love a good resurrection."

Ariella's voice was deadly calm. "Why are you here?"

Alistair set his glass down. "Because someone had to clean up the mess you made."

Ariella's pulse spiked. "You were part of the Order."

Alistair's smirk faded slightly. "I was part of something bigger. And now? You are too."

Ariella stepped forward. "I didn't fight this war just to end up back in chains."

Alistair tilted his head. "Chains? No, Ariella."

His smile returned.

"You didn't destroy the Order. You became it."

The room fell into silence.

Ariella's heart pounded.

Because deep down, she knew—

This wasn't the end.

It was the beginning of something far worse.

And this time?

She wasn't sure if she would survive it.