The world had moved on.
News outlets stopped covering the scandal.
Frederick Vance was locked away in a maximum-security medical facility, awaiting psychological evaluation.
Aria was trying to rebuild her life in silence — but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
And Lucia?
Lucia was dead to the media.
But not to the streets.
Two former reporters from Daily Flame were found in a hotel room.
Naked.
Mouths stitched shut.
Their laptops burnt to ash.
The press called it a tragic accident.
But in the underground, the whispers said otherwise:
> "She's back."
Lucia never forgave betrayal.
Not from lovers.
Not from pawns.
Not from traitors.
And this time, her vengeance would wear no mask.
Aria had taken a job as a low-level admin in a quiet hospital outside the city.
No press. No eyes. No drama.
Just silence.
Peace.
But peace was a lie.
She noticed it in the hallway — a nurse she didn't recognize, staring too long.
In the elevator — a file folder with her old address scribbled inside.
One night, she came home and found rose petals on her bed.
Black ones.
Her hands shook.
She texted Frederick.
> Aria: "They found me."
No reply.
He was in a secure room, no access to outside devices.
She was alone.
Or so she thought.
Lucia stood in front of the mirror, her reflection warped by the scar across her left cheek — a gift from Frederick's last betrayal.
She ran her hand over the wound.
> "Pain is a lesson," she whispered. "And now, they'll all learn."
Behind her stood two masked figures — her new allies.
Men she had broken. Rebuilt. Owned.
> "Kill the girl. Slowly."
> "And the doctor?"
> "He gets to watch."
At 3 a.m., Aria's apartment exploded.
She had left two hours earlier, warned by nothing but instinct.
The news said gas leak.
But on her mailbox, there was a note:
> "RUNNING WON'T SAVE YOU."
> — L
In the psych ward, Frederick woke in a cold sweat.
His wrists were strapped.
His mind was foggy.
But he felt her.
Lucia.
She was close.
And she was coming for Aria.
He called the guard.
> "I need a phone."
> "You're not allowed—"
> "She'll die. And so will you if you don't listen."
The guard paused.
Even behind locked doors, Frederick's voice still had power.
Aria's burner phone lit up.
A number she didn't recognize.
> "Hello?"
> "You need to come to me," the voice rasped.
> "Frederick…?"
> "She's coming. You don't have time. I can keep you safe, but you have to trust me again."
> "After everything?"
> "You have no choice."
> "Why should I believe you?"
A long pause.
Then softly:
> "Because you're the only person I ever regret."
The line went dead.
The storm outside the psychiatric facility raged like a warning.
But Aria ignored it.
She had no umbrella, no backup, just her hoodie and a heart beating too loudly.
This was the place where monsters were locked away.
And she was walking in willingly.
She passed through the metal detectors, past the lazy guards who barely looked up.
> "I'm here to see Frederick Vance."
> "You sure about that, miss?"
> "No."
But she signed her name anyway.
And fifteen minutes later, she stood before the glass barrier, where Frederick waited with that familiar half-smile — the kind that burned and healed at the same time.
> "Aria," he said, voice calm, "you look tired."
> "I haven't slept."
> "You've been running."
> "Because your ex wants me dead."
He chuckled.
> "Lucia never wants people dead. She wants them shattered."
She sat down, gripping the table hard enough to hurt.
> "You said you could protect me."
> "I can."
> "How?"
> "But it'll cost you."
She rolled her eyes.
> "Of course it will."
> "Your trust."
> "You already burned that."
> "Then give me something else."
He leaned in, his eyes sharp, cold.
> "Let me out."
She froze.
> "You want me to help you escape?"
> "You want to live, don't you?"
The room went still.
> "You still know the back door system," he said. "You saw it once, when we treated that schizophrenic girl with the violent tendencies. You memorized it. Don't lie."
He knew her too well.
She had memorized it.
Aria whispered,
> "And if I help you?"
Frederick's smile returned.
> "Then I kill Lucia for you."
Aria left the building with her heart in her throat.
She was about to commit a crime to escape a crime.
But the alternative was death.
Or worse — becoming another one of Lucia's projects.
That night, she hacked the medical wing's side access.
Disabled a camera.
Moved a scheduled check-in by five minutes.
At midnight, she returned.
Wearing a stolen uniform.
Frederick was ready.
The halls were quiet.
Only the flicker of fluorescent lights buzzed as they walked side by side — predator and prey, shadow and flame.
Aria's voice trembled.
> "If you lie to me again…"
> "I won't."
> "Swear it."
Frederick stopped.
Turned.
Took her face in his blood-stained hand.
> "On everything I ruined, I swear."
She didn't believe him.
But she needed him.
And that was worse.
They slipped into the night, stealing a van from the back lot.
They drove with silence between them, heavy and breathless.
> "Where are we going?" Aria asked.
> "To meet someone who still owes me a favor."
> "Another monster?"
> "No," Frederick said with a dry smile. "This one makes me look like a priest."