Chapter 3: Blood and Oaths

The city never truly slept, but in the quiet hours of the early morning, when the streets were slick with rain and neon lights reflected off the pavement, Amandla learned that power wasn't just inherited—it was seized.

She stood in a dimly lit warehouse on the edge of the docks, the scent of saltwater mixing with the metallic tang of blood. The man on the floor groaned, his face unrecognizable beneath the bruises and gashes. He had once been one of her father's trusted lieutenants, but loyalty had a way of shifting like the tides. Amandla's fingers tightened around the knife in her hand, its blade still warm from its last kiss against his skin.

Noah stood beside her, his face unreadable. "You can't hesitate," he said, voice low and steady. "Not in this world."

Amandla exhaled sharply, locking eyes with the traitor. "You thought you could sell us out?" she asked, crouching beside him. "That you could take my father's secrets and trade them for a better deal?"

The man tried to speak, but the gag in his mouth muffled his words. Tears leaked from his swollen eyes, his body trembling. Amandla tilted her head, considering him for a long moment. There was no mercy here. If she hesitated, if she allowed even a sliver of doubt, she'd be seen as weak. And in the world she was about to inherit, weakness was a death sentence.

Noah handed her a pistol, his gaze never leaving hers. It was a test—one she couldn't afford to fail.

She stood, staring down at the man who had betrayed her family. He had known the risks. He had made his choice. Now, she would make hers.

The shot echoed through the warehouse, sharp and final.

Silence followed.

Amandla didn't flinch. She had grown up surrounded by bloodshed, but this was different. This was her first kill. She let out a slow breath, feeling something settle inside her—a certainty, a resolve.

Noah gave her a small nod of approval. "You did what needed to be done."

Amandla wiped the blood from her hands, her jaw set. "And I'll do it again if I have to."

The Weight of a Name

As they left the warehouse, the city stretched before them like a kingdom waiting to be conquered. Amandla had always been her father's daughter, but tonight, she had taken her first step toward becoming something more.

She and Noah drove in silence, the streets flashing by in streaks of yellow and red. She could still feel the weight of the gun in her hand, the finality of the trigger pull.

Noah finally spoke. "You understand now, don't you?"

Amandla met his gaze in the rearview mirror. "Understand what?"

"That power isn't just about fear," he said. "It's about control. And now, you're in control."

She turned away, watching the city blur past. Her father's empire was built on blood and oaths, and if she wanted to claim it, she'd have to prove herself.

And she would.

Because Amandla wasn't just her father's daughter anymore.

She was something far more dangerous.

End of Chapter 3.