Snow raged outside the glass walls, thick and blinding, swallowing the city in white. At the highest floor of the towering conglomerate, warmth did nothing to soften the tension coiled around the table.
Two men sat opposite each other in immaculate white blazers—untouched, almost arrogant in their perfection. Between them, a woman in a fiery red dress crossed her legs slowly, heels clicking once against the marble floor. Her presence burned against the cold backdrop.
Evan broke the silence first.
"So," he said, voice low, dangerous. "Lana is really dead?"
Lilith didn't hesitate. "Confirmed. She was injected in the hospital. Whoever did it wanted it clean—and final."
Vincent leaned back in his chair, lips curling into something close to amusement. "Injected? How considerate."
Evan slammed his fist onto the table. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.
"Damn it. She didn't suffer enough. I had plans for that woman. Long ones."
Vincent chuckled softly, unbothered. "Dead or alive doesn't matter to me. What matters is balance. Someone has to pay for the mess she made."
Lilith's red lips curved slightly. "And they will."
Evan turned to her. "Who did it?"
"My people are still tracing the final thread," she replied calmly, "but every road leads to the same place. Blackthorn."
Evan sneered. "Figures."
Vincent's gaze sharpened. "Then we don't strike blindly. We choose a face. A name."
Lilith tapped her nail once against the table. "I already have one. The G-God woman. The hacker who nearly sent us to prison."
Evan's eyes lit with satisfaction. "So now that Lana's gone, G-God takes the fall."
"Yes," Lilith said smoothly.
Evan laughed, slow and cruel. "And what about the coward who hides behind her screens? Have you found her yet?"
Lilith met his gaze without blinking. "Rowena Black."
Vincent straightened slightly. "The one who crossed Blackthorn?"
"The same," Lilith continued. "Lana was dragged into her war. Rowena disappeared after that—dead, hiding, or worse. But she left something behind."
Evan raised a brow. "A legacy?"
"A daughter."
The word settled heavily in the room.
Vincent smiled. "Then the daughter becomes the debt."
Evan nodded. "Send men after her."
Lilith lifted a hand lazily. "Not yet. Let Blackthorn play with her first. Break her a little."
Evan burst into laughter. "I've always said it—you're a monster."
Lilith shrugged lightly. "If she wants someone to blame, she should curse her mother. Curiosity is a disease."
Vincent rose from his chair, adjusting his blazer. "Then it's settled."
Outside, snow continued to fall—soft, innocent, unforgiving.
Inside, a fate was sealed.