The black SUV roared through the city's labyrinthine streets, its tires screeching against the asphalt like the cries of a dying beast.
In the backseat, Amelia sat stiff and pale, her knuckles bone white as she clenched the letter Lucien had left behind.
Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, every beat a cruel reminder that she was racing against time—against fate—to save the only light left in her life.
Her son.
Outside the window, the city blurred into a swirl of lights and shadows, each passing building a blur of regret and lost hope.
Her mind spiraled into the darkest corners, replaying every moment she held her child…
The softness of his tiny hands.
The fragile rise and fall of his chest against hers.
His scent—innocence, warmth, life.
And now…
Gone.
Snatched from her like a cruel joke played by the devil himself.
Damian sat beside her, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the GPS feed from a hacked satellite feed.
His voice was low and edged with barely contained fury.
"He's in the old Blake estate. The one burned down years ago. He's taunting you, Amelia. Forcing you to walk into hell one last time."
Amelia's voice was a raw whisper, her eyes locked on the horizon.
"Then I'll walk through fire if I have to. I'll burn with it. But I'm bringing my son back."
They arrived at the estate just before midnight.
The moon hung high, a pale, silent witness to the final act of a tragedy written in blood.
The ruins of the mansion stood like the carcass of a fallen titan, its charred remains looming against the sky.
Every step Amelia took echoed through the hollow remains of the life she once tried so hard to build.
The air was thick with the scent of ash and decay.
And then…
That sound.
A faint cry.
Her son.
Her legs gave way beneath her, but she forced herself forward, driven by the primal instinct of a mother pushed beyond the brink.
"I'm here, baby! Mama's here!" she cried, her voice cracking through the empty halls.
Lucien's silhouette emerged from the shadows, standing at the top of the grand staircase like the ghost of every nightmare she'd ever known.
A sickeningly calm smile stretched across his face.
And there, in his arms—
Her child.
"Welcome to the final act, Amelia," Lucien purred, his fingers gently brushing over the baby's soft cheek.
"Tell me… how far will a mother go to reclaim what's hers?"
Damian raised his gun, but Lucien pressed a blade against the baby's tiny throat, his eyes glittering with madness.
"Ah, ah… One wrong move, and the Blake legacy dies with him."
Amelia dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
"Take me instead, Lucien! Kill me, do whatever you want—just let my son go!"
Lucien laughed, a sound so cold it made the flames flickering in the broken hearth seem colder.
"You still don't understand, do you? This was never about money. Or power. This was about watching you break, Amelia. About proving that even queens fall to their knees before the end."
Amelia's vision blurred, her body trembling violently.
And then—
The faintest whisper of breath beside her ear.
Damian.
"Now. Trust me."
In a split second, everything happened at once.
A single gunshot cracked through the night—
Lucien staggered, blood blooming across his chest like a wilting rose.
The baby slipped from his arms—
And Amelia lunged forward, catching her child against her chest with a cry of relief and heartbreak all at once.
Lucien collapsed onto the cold marble floor, his last breath a whisper that sent chills down her spine.
"It's… not… over…"