The underground level of BT Group was never meant to feel human.
Cold concrete walls pressed in from every side, swallowing sound, swallowing light. The air smelled faintly of metal and oil. Rowena stood at the center of it all, dressed in a black tracksuit that clung to her frame like a second skin. She looked calm—too calm—but the tightness in her shoulders betrayed her.
Across from her sat North Black.
He looked every bit the king of this buried kingdom, dressed in a flawless suit that didn't belong in a place like this. His posture was relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes were sharp—predatory.
"You failed," he said casually, as if discussing the weather.
Rowena didn't flinch. "They had a better hacker than expected. Professional. I couldn't breach the final layer."
North tilted his head slightly, studying her. "What I despise more than incompetence is dishonesty."
She met his gaze without blinking. "Then despise me if you want. The outcome won't change."
A pause. Heavy. Measured.
North leaned back, fingers tapping once against the arm of his chair. "My men brought me something interesting a few days ago."
Rowena's jaw tightened just a fraction. "I'm listening."
"They lost someone." His lips curved faintly. "A girl. Slippery. Clever. Apparently, she didn't die when she was supposed to."
Rowena felt it then—the sharp, unmistakable strike to her chest.
North watched her closely. "Athena," he added softly. "That's her name, isn't it?"
Her fists clenched before she could stop herself.
"What does that have to do with me?" she asked, voice flat.
North rose slowly to his feet and stepped closer, the sound of his shoes echoing against the concrete. "You can pretend she means nothing to you. You can fool the world with that cold face. But don't insult me by thinking I'm blind."
Rowena's breath hitched. Anger bled into her voice. "You took my husband. You took my son. How much more do you want? Haven't you taken enough?"
North smiled—but there was no warmth in it. He slipped a hand into his pocket, leaning in just enough for his words to sink like poison.
"Infiltrate Lilac Group," he said quietly. "Or I'll show you what color your little fox's blood is."
The words lingered long after he turned away.
North walked out without another glance, his footsteps fading into the depths of the underground. The door shut. Silence rushed in to replace him.
Rowena stood there, unmoving.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
On the far wall hung a framed portrait—pristine, out of place. A man with a heroic smile. A savior, once.
Her voice came out low, fractured.
"You took me in when I had nothing. You gave me skills. Power." Her lips trembled. "And your son repaid that kindness by tearing my family apart."
Her eyes hardened, something dangerous igniting behind them.
"If he touches my daughter," she whispered, "I will destroy everything you built. I won't hesitate. I won't regret it."
The underground offered no comfort—only echoes.
But the vow stayed.