A shadow from the past

The scent of violence still lingered in the warehouse. I stood, shocked and my ego slightly bruised.

My gaze was locked on that door where they had disappeared into the darkness. As if I was hoping they'd come back for a rematch

My men, recovering but compromised, carried the kind of frustration that a scream that was never let out did.

"This won't ever happen again," I muttered through gritted teeth. I took in the wreckage around us. Tonight, I learned something new: no man was untouchable.

Vivienne approached, her presence calm. Her eyes scanned the chaos, she dared not to speak but I didn't need to hear her opinions. I could feel the weight of this failure pressing down on me already.

"Luca, should we go after them?" She asked, her voice lacing with curiosity as she reached for my shoulder as if trying to comfort me, "Are you going to let them get away with this?"

I didn't look at her, my mind already racing. "No. Let them think they've won. Let them enjoy their moment." I told her.

I glanced at my men, some were still on the ground and some were still shaking off the fight, but losing had never been an option. "Get them moving. We're leaving. No point wasting time here."

Vivienne gave a curt nod and started barking orders. I lingered for a moment longer, my mind fixated on one thing—her.

The woman.

The precision of her strikes.

They were merciless, flawless, ruthless. She didn't think, she just moved as if she had been trained from the moment she was born.

She was a force not to be messed with.

Dangerous.

And the cherry on top? She carried herself with the kind of authority that few ever earned.

She wasn't just a leader. She was a problem.

A problem I intended to take care of.

"Our ride is here," Vivienne told me in a whisper - like she was even afraid to speak. She knew I was pissed.

Far from pissed.

Finally, I turned and made my way to the waiting car. Vivienne slid in beside me. An awkward silence settled between us.

As soon as the car started moving, I spoke. "I need everything on them," my voice was quiet but commanding.

"Every single detail—who they are, where they hide, who supplies them." My jaw tightened. "And most importantly... I want to know everything about her. The woman who led them."

Vivienne didn't hesitate. She could hear the steel in my voice. "Consider it done."

I leaned back in my seat as the city lights blurred past. My body was here, but my mind was still in that warehouse, locked onto her. She had made a move.

Now it was my turn.

I felt a smirk crawl back onto my face.

***

The study was dimly lit, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. I sat there, the events at the warehouse still replaying in my mind, each moment burning slowly like embers refusing to die.

She was perfect. Cold. Unrelenting.

She didn't hesitate.

Her control over The Black Reign was undeniable. This wasn't just about territory anymore—this was about eliminating a threat before it had the chance to grow into something that could overshadow my empire.

My fingers tapped idly against the side of my whiskey tumbler, my mind turning over every possibility. I had seen challengers before. Had crushed them under my boot. But this... this was different.

She was different.

I took a slow sip of whiskey, the heat spreading through my chest, but it didn't ease the knot in my stomach. "I need to know who she is," I muttered into the silence.

A sharp knock cut through my thoughts.

"Boss?" Vivienne's voice was clear and precise. "Got news on The Black Reign."

I exhaled, setting the glass down. The fight in the warehouse still played in my mind—her smooth, lethal movements, the way she cut through my men as if they were nothing. There was no hesitation in her, no wasted effort. And for the first time in years, a spark of curiosity ignited within me.

Not fear.

Something far worse.

Interest.

I crossed the room, gripping the heavy oak door and swinging it open.

Vivienne stood there, composed as ever, a file in her hands. There was something in her eyes tonight—a flicker of satisfaction. "The woman who leads The Black Reign," she said, stepping inside. "Her name is Mira Callahan."

I took the file, my fingers brushing against hers as I did. I barely noticed. My eyes landed on the name printed on the top page, and for a moment, I felt my heart stutter.

Mira.

The name rang in my ears like an echo from a time I had buried deep. My stomach twisted, but I forced the reaction down, gripping the file tighter.

It couldn't be her.

Vivienne continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. "Mira Callahan's been in -charge for five years now. Took over after her parents were murdered- tragic, really. She's ruthless and smart, and no one has ever managed to take her down yet. She's also known to have a bad temper "

My knuckles whitened as I flipped through the pages. I didn't need to hear the rest, but Vivienne kept going, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "She's been securing suppliers—arms, rare pharmaceuticals, tech. She's got a deal with Roland Krieger. Shipments come through the docks, but she moves fast. Never stays in one place for too long."

I barely heard her. My mind was back in that warehouse, seeing her again. Her eyes, the way she commanded a room, the way she fought—

No.

It couldn't be her.

Vivienne went on. "Her crew is loyal. Trained. And she's making moves into territories we used to control. But she's careful. Strategic. Every move is calculated."

I didn't respond. My grip on the file tightened my pulse a steady thrum in my ears.

The Black Reign was a growing threat; that much was clear. But none of it mattered in comparison to one fact—

Mira.

That name refused to leave my mind, digging in like a splinter beneath my skin.

Vivienne watched me carefully, but when I didn't speak, she gave a slight nod. "I'll keep digging. Let me know if you want me to act on anything."

"Dismissed," I said quietly.

A disappointed look washed over her face for a second.

She hesitated but obeyed, slipping out of the room.

As the door shut behind her, I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. My gaze dropped back to the file. Mira Callahan.

Could it really be her?

No, it could not. The Mira I knew was sweet-

She was a nice person.

But people do change.

I turned toward the window, whiskey in hand, staring out at the sprawling city below. I had built my empire from nothing, carved my way to the top with blood and bone. No one was going to take that from me.

But if this woman, if she truly was the one I suspected her to be, then this transcended mere business—it became a matter of vendetta.

This was personal.

I set the whiskey down, my jaw clenching.

If it was her… then I would find out soon enough.