Lena had always been good at leaving things behind, but this? This felt different. The body of Marc, one of her old abusers, lay sprawled across the bed, his blood painting the sheets in dark, twisted patterns. His face, a mask of confusion as he died in her arms, hadn't recognized her. He couldn't. Not after all the years that had passed. Not after the way she'd changed—inside and out.
She stood over him, unbothered by the death she'd just dealt. To her, he was just another casualty of the life she'd been forced to live. It wasn't about revenge. It was about control. She controlled the narrative now. Not him. Not the men who thought they could own her.
Lena walked through the mansion one last time. It wasn't a house. Not anymore. It was a tomb. And soon, it would be ashes.
The flames ate it up, devouring everything, until there was nothing left but soot and memories, a fire of her making.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a reminder that the world didn't stop just because she set a building on fire. She pulled the device from her bag and checked the message: Meet me at the cafe. I got what you wanted.
It was from Owen. The nerdy hacker who'd been helping her track down the traffickers. She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear as she walked toward the cafe.
The cafe was just as she remembered. Quiet, calm—until she entered. The eyes of every man in the place immediately zeroed in on her, their gazes full of lust. Lena didn't care. She was a queen in a world of pawns, and today? Today, she was here to play.
She spotted Owen right away. He sat at the back, fiddling with a laptop, his round glasses perched low on his nose. He wasn't much to look at, but that was part of the appeal. No one would ever suspect him of being involved in the dangerous things he did for her.
Lena slid into the seat across from him with a practiced ease, flashing a smile that made Owen's heart stutter. "You came through," she said, voice smooth and low.
Owen flushed, looking up from his screen. "I-I did. Everything you asked for. All here." He pushed the laptop toward her, his fingers tapping nervously against the keys.
Lena clicked open the files, scanning the information with a sharp eye. There, in black and white, was the man she'd been hunting—the one who had taken so many women, broken so many lives. Rick. The maniac who ran the kidnapping ring. She studied his face, his movements, the places he frequented. Every detail was there, laid out like a treasure map.
"Perfect," she murmured, her lips curving into a smile. She looked up at Owen. "You've done well."
Owen swallowed hard, unsure how to respond to the praise. It wasn't every day that someone like Lena acknowledged your hard work, and the weight of her gaze made him feel both small and important.
"I— I just wanted to help," Owen said, his voice cracking slightly.
Lena leaned back, casually scrolling through more of the information. "You've helped me more than you know. So," she paused, eyes narrowing slightly, "you said this Rick guy hangs out at a place called The Edge?"
Owen nodded, his hand nervously running through his hair. "Yeah, it's a nightclub. But it's not just a nightclub. It's... It's where Rick meets other people. Buyers, sellers, you name it."
Lena smiled, the corners of her lips curling with something dangerous. "Good to know. And now you've got everything. All I need is a place to lay low for a while."
Her words hung in the air like a challenge, and Owen didn't hesitate for a moment. "You can stay at my place. If you want."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You're offering?"
Owen's face flushed a deep red, and he stammered, "Y-yeah, I mean, it's not much, but... if you're looking for a place, I've got a spare room. You know, if that's okay with you."
She tilted her head, eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something more dangerous. "I'm sure it's fine. Lead the way."
Owen's apartment was modest at best. The walls were decorated with cheap posters, and the furniture looked like it came from a yard sale. It wasn't a mansion. But then, after what Lena had just walked away from, everything felt small.
She glanced around, her lips curling into a smile. "It's... quaint. After the mansion, this is a bit of a downgrade, don't you think?"
Owen chuckled nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "Yeah, I'm not exactly rich. I— I can't afford the fancy stuff, you know?"
Lena gave him a nonchalant glance. "Mm, I can see that." She reached into her bag, pulling out a thick wad of cash. She didn't even count it, just handed it to him, her fingers brushing his for a moment.
His face turned beet red as he pushed the money back toward her. "No, you don't have to do that. I—I don't need it."
Lena's eyes hardened. "You do need it. Don't argue." She pressed the bills into his palm, her voice smooth but commanding. "Take it. I'm not giving you a choice."
He blinked rapidly, his face a mix of shock and gratitude. "O-Okay. I'll take it... but only because you insist."
Lena simply nodded, glancing around the apartment once more. "You've got potential. Just need a little polish." She then reached into her pocket and dialed a number, bringing the phone to her ear.
The line clicked as her friend, Tara, picked up. Tara was a different breed altogether—wild, carefree, and a little reckless. She was the one who had taught Lena how to seduce men, how to make them beg, how to break them before they could even realize they were falling for her.
"Lena?" Tara's voice was breathy, teasing. "What's up, babe?"
Lena smiled, leaning against the counter, her eyes flicking to Owen, who was still standing awkwardly by the couch. "Just... laying low for a bit. I'm at Owen's place. You remember Owen, right? The guy who helped me track Rick?"
"Oh, yeah! The nerdy one," Tara giggled. Then, in the background, Lena could hear the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking, and Tara's voice dropped an octave. "Hold on a second..."
Lena smirked, a little amused by her friend's antics. "Busy, huh?"
"Mm-hmm. You know how it is. Gotta keep my skills sharp," Tara teased, moaning softly in the background, before she added with a little breathless laugh, "But go ahead, I'm listening."
Lena rolled her eyes, still entertained. "Anyway, I'm here with Owen. He's letting me crash for a while. Just got to figure out what's next, but I needed a place to stay."
"Wait, Owen?" Tara gasped. "The geek? You're staying with him?"
Lena chuckled. "Yeah. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, nothing," Tara's voice was muffled for a second as she moaned again, "Just... didn't expect that, is all. So, how's he treating you?"
Lena looked over at Owen, who was sitting awkwardly on the couch. "He's... good. He's helping. A little too eager, but that's fine. I'll make sure he doesn't get too comfortable."
"Oh, babe. You've got this, I know you do. So what's the plan? Are you gonna hit Rick soon? Because I can help out, you know? I've got my own... ways of making things go smoothly."
Lena smirked. "I know you do. But I think I've got this one covered. I'll let you know if I need a little extra... motivation."
Tara laughed again, then paused. "Hey, take it slow, okay? You don't want to rush into things... Ah, sh—oh, god..."
Lena shook her head, smiling. "I'll talk to you later, Tara. Don't get too distracted."
With a laugh, she hung up the phone, her thoughts already moving to the next step. Owen was still sitting there, his face flushed and awkward. She walked over to him, her hand on his shoulder.
"Let's get some rest," she said, her voice low and enticing. "Tomorrow's a new day."