Episode 7

The helicopter touched down just before midnight.

Lucien stepped out first. Dressed in black, eyes sharp. The night air was cold, but his blood was colder.

Sera followed, coat pulled tight around her body, face calm — too calm. She hadn't spoken since they left the city.

But Lucien saw the storm in her eyes.

He didn't speak either.

This wasn't a time for words.

They climbed into a waiting black car. Jax was behind the wheel. The city lights of Nice blurred past them as he gave the report.

"The men from the photo work under Enzo Ricci — a mid-level trafficker tied to Delgado. They use three properties: a hotel, a club, and a farmhouse just outside town."

"Which one is he at?" Lucien asked.

"We don't know yet. But we've narrowed it to the farmhouse."

Sera leaned forward. "And you're sure he's alive?"

Jax hesitated. "We intercepted a call. They were told not to kill him yet. He's leverage."

Sera closed her eyes for a second. Then opened them. "Then we still have time."

Lucien looked at her.

"You ready for this?"

Sera didn't blink. "I was born ready."

⎯

The farmhouse sat on the edge of an abandoned vineyard. Faded walls. No lights. No cars.

But it wasn't empty.

Jax scanned the perimeter with night vision. "Two guards outside. Four inside. One in the basement."

"That's where he'll be," Lucien said.

Sera stepped beside him. "We go in fast. Quiet. No mistakes."

Lucien turned to her. "You sure you're not just a CEO?"

She gave a small smile. "My father taught me business with one hand, and self-defense with the other."

Lucien nodded. "Let's move."

⎯

The first two guards never saw them coming.

Jax took one. Lucien dropped the second with a silent blow to the neck.

Sera slipped inside through the back door, knife in hand. She moved like she'd done this before. No hesitation.

Inside, the hall smelled of smoke and rot.

Footsteps approached.

She pressed against the wall — then struck fast, her blade slashing across the man's arm. He dropped his gun. She hit his throat. He dropped flat.

Lucien stepped in behind her. "You've been holding out on me."

"Later."

They moved down the hall.

Another guard turned the corner — raised his gun.

Lucien fired once. Clean. The man fell.

They found the basement door. Locked.

Lucien stepped back, kicked hard.

The wood cracked. Sera slipped through.

The air inside was cold.

And there — chained to a chair — was Marco.

His lip was split. One eye swollen. But alive.

"Marco!" she ran forward.

His head jerked up. "Sera…?"

She dropped beside him, cutting the rope from his hands.

"You came," he whispered.

She touched his face gently. "I'll always come."

Behind her, Lucien kept watch.

"Time's up," he said. "Let's move."

⎯

They got out clean.

No sirens. No alarms. The men they left behind wouldn't talk.

Back at the safehouse, Marco slept. A medic patched him up. Sera sat beside him, one hand wrapped around his.

Lucien stood in the doorway.

"You did good," he said softly.

Sera didn't look up. "I let them get to him. That's not good."

"You stopped them before they could finish what they started."

She finally turned. Her eyes were wet — but she didn't cry.

Lucien stepped closer.

"He'll need time. But he's strong. Like his sister."

Sera stood. Her voice low. "This isn't over."

Lucien nodded. "No. It's just beginning."

⎯

Back in Monaco, Delgado paced.

He had expected fear. Silence. Weakness.

Not a rescue.

Not retaliation.

His phone rang.

"Ricci's men are missing. The farmhouse was hit. The boy is gone."

Delgado's jaw tightened.

"Then change the game," he growled. "If Cain and Moretti want to play dirty…"

He turned to his desk.

"…then we go public."

⎯

The next morning, headlines exploded.

"Lucien Cain linked to underworld hit squad."

"Moretti CEO's secret relationship with Cain exposed."

"Board members under investigation for illegal asset movements."

Sera sat in her office, phone ringing off the hook.

She didn't flinch.

She turned to Collins. "Release the Banjo files."

"Now?"

"Yes. Burn the bridge. Let them know I'm done playing polite."

⎯

By noon, the media had a new story.

"Moretti Board Member Caught in Family Fund Scandal."

Banjo resigned by sunset.

One down.

⎯

That evening, Lucien called her.

"You still standing?"

She looked out her window. The city lights blinked, unaware of the war beneath them.

"Yes," she said. "But I don't want to just stand anymore."

"What do you want?"

She smiled.

"To strike."