She flew into Montenegro under a false identity.
No guards. No backup. No Colson.
Just fire in her blood and a blade in her boot.
The compound sat high in the cliffs, built like a fortress, but wrapped in elegance—marble columns, glass walls, the kind of palace a monster builds when he wants to be worshipped.
She stepped through the gates without resistance.
They were expecting her.
She passed guards who didn't meet her eyes. Servants who knew better than to whisper.
And then—he appeared.
Lucien Raye.
Tall. Impeccable. Older, but not broken.
"Still as fearless as your mother," he said, voice velvet and poison.
"You killed her," Sienna replied coldly.
"No," Lucien said, pouring himself wine. "She chose loyalty. It cost her."
"And me?" she asked.
"You were always my greatest creation."
He smiled.
Sienna's fists clenched.
"I didn't come here for a reunion," she said. "I came for closure."
Lucien gestured to a sleek case on the table. Inside: photos. Maps. New targets.
"Ember can still be yours. You've already burned the old guard. Rule the ashes."
Sienna stared at the offer.
Then at him.
"I'm not your legacy," she whispered.
"I'm your end."
She pressed the button in her pocket.
Explosions echoed from the cliffs below—the backup servers. The security grid. The fuel vault.
Lucien's smile faded.
"You wouldn't," he said.
Sienna drew her gun.
"I just did."