Scarlett ran like death itself was chasing her, because it was. Her phone clutched in her trembling hand held the only evidence that could prove Kieran was a monster, but first she had to survive the night.

Her feet pounded against the hallway floor. Behind her, Kieran's laughter echoed off the walls, rich and amused and completely unhurried.

He wasn't chasing her.

He was letting her run.

The realization made her stumble, but she caught herself and kept going. The club's back exit was just ahead. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.

She slammed into the door with her shoulder, bursting out into the alley. Cold air hit her lungs. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped her phone.

The video. She needed the video.

She'd started recording the second she'd seen Kieran's fangs in Annabelle's throat. Hadn't even thought about it. Just pulled out her phone and hit record through the crack in the door.

Stupid. Reckless. But maybe it would save her life.

Her fingers fumbled across the screen. Found the video file. Played it.

The footage was shaky and dark, but it was there. Kieran's monstrous face. Annabelle's dying body. The blood. All of it captured in grainy phone quality that would still be enough to prove what he was.

This was her leverage. Her insurance policy.

If he came after her, she'd release it everywhere. Send it to the police. To the media. To whatever supernatural authorities existed. She'd make sure everyone knew what Kieran Volkov really was.

But before she could take another step, a voice cut through the darkness.

"Going somewhere, Tentatrice?"

Scarlett spun around. Kieran stood at the alley entrance, blocking her path to the parking lot. His face was clean now. No blood. No monster. Just the charming man in the white suit.

But she'd seen what hid underneath.

"Stay away from me." She held up her phone. "I have video. Of what you did to Annabelle. If you come near me, I'll send it everywhere."

Kieran tilted his head, studying her. "You think that frightens me?"

"It should. Vampires have rules about exposure, don't they? You can't risk humans knowing what you are."

"Smart girl." He took a step forward. "But you're missing something important."

"Stop. Don't come closer."

He stopped, but his smile widened. "I've wanted you for weeks now. Offered you everything. Money. Protection. Pleasure beyond your imagination. And every time, you refused me."

"Because I'm not for sale."

"Everyone's for sale, Scarlett. Everyone has a price." He said her real name deliberately. Reminding her that he knew things about her. "I know about your brother. About the medical bills. About the loan sharks. I could make all of that disappear."

"I don't want your help."

"You want Alessio's help instead?" His voice turned bitter. "He used you and threw you away like trash. But I'm still here. Still offering."

"I'd rather die than let you touch me."

Something flickered in Kieran's eyes. Hurt, maybe. Or rage disguised as hurt.

"That can be arranged," he said softly. "But not tonight. Tonight I'm feeling generous. So here's what's going to happen. You're going to delete that video. And in exchange, I'm going to pretend I didn't see you recording me."

"No."

"No?" He laughed. "You think you have leverage here? You think that video protects you?"

"It's already uploaded to the cloud. If anything happens to me, it goes public automatically."

A lie. But a good one.

Kieran studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled. "You're braver than I thought. Stupider too. But brave."

He turned to leave, then paused.

"Fair warning, Scarlett. I always get what I want. Always. If you won't come to me willingly, I'll find other ways to convince you." His eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Stay away from me if you're smart. Avoid me. Run. But know that every time you refuse me, you're just making the inevitable more painful."

Then he was gone. Disappeared into the shadows like he'd never been there at all.

Scarlett stood frozen for ten seconds before her legs started working again.

She ran to her car.

---

She drove like the devil was on her heels, checking the rearview mirror every three seconds.

No black sedan. No white suit. No sign of Kieran at all.

But that didn't mean he wasn't coming.

Her mind raced as she navigated the empty streets. The video hadn't scared him off. Her threats had been useless. He'd just given her a warning and walked away.

Which meant he was planning something worse.

She needed to disappear. Get Marco from the hospital. Leave the city. Start over somewhere neither Kieran nor Alessio could find them.

The video was her only insurance. And even that felt flimsy now.

She pulled into her apartment complex and killed the engine. For the first time in twenty minutes, she let herself breathe.

Pack a bag. Get Marco. Run.

She climbed out of the car and headed for her building, phone gripped tight in her hand.

Everything was going to be okay.

---

The apartment door was unlocked.

Scarlett stopped with her hand on the knob, ice flooding her veins. She always locked it. Always. Especially with Marco inside.

"Marco?"

No answer.

She pushed the door open slowly. The living room was dark. No lights. No TV. Just silence.

Wrong. Everything felt wrong.

"Marco, this isn't funny."

Her hand found the light switch. Flipped it.

Blood.

Everywhere.

Splattered on the walls. Soaked into the carpet. Pooling on the floor in a spreading lake of crimson that reflected the overhead light.

And in the center of it all, Marco.

Her baby brother lay crumpled on the ground, his seventeen-year-old body broken and bleeding. His shirt was soaked red. His face was pale. Too pale.

The scream that tore from Scarlett's throat didn't sound human.

She fell to her knees beside him, her hands pressing against the wounds in his chest. There were so many. Too many. Blood poured between her fingers no matter how hard she pressed.

"No, no, no." The words came out in a chant. A prayer. "Marco, please. Stay with me. Please stay with me."

His eyes fluttered open. Unfocused. Glassy.

"Scarlett?"

His voice was so weak. So small. Like he was twelve again instead of nearly grown.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here." She fumbled for her phone with blood-slick hands. "I'm calling an ambulance. You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine."

Marco's hand caught hers with surprising strength. Stopped her from dialing.

"Too late," he whispered.

"No. No, it's not too late. Don't say that."

"He said..." Marco coughed. Blood bubbled at his lips. "He said to tell you..."

"Who? Who did this to you?"

"The man." Marco's eyes tried to focus on her face. "Dark hair. Expensive suit. Said his name was Alessio."

The world tilted sideways.

No. No, that's not possible.

"Said you belong to him now." Marco's breathing was getting shallower. Faster. "Said this is what happens when people threaten Alessio De Luca."

"Marco, no. You're confused. It wasn't him. It couldn't have been him."

But even as she said it, she knew Marco was describing Alessio perfectly. The dark hair. The suit. The name.

Alessio had done this.

Alessio had killed her brother.

"Scarlett." Marco's grip on her hand was weakening. "I'm scared."

"I know, baby. I know. But you're going to be okay." The lie tasted like poison.

I love you. He muttered

Marco smiled. It was small and sad and the last thing he'd ever do.

Then his eyes went empty. His hand went slack in hers. His chest stopped moving.

"Marco?" She shook him gently. "Marco, come back. Please come back."

But he was gone.

Her baby brother was gone.

And Alessio De Luca had killed him.

---

Scarlett didn't know how long she sat there, cradling Marco's body. Minutes. Hours. Time had stopped meaning anything.

The grief was physical. A weight on her chest that made breathing impossible. A knife in her gut that twisted with every heartbeat.

She'd failed him. Failed to protect him. Failed to keep him safe.

He died because of her. Because she'd witnessed something she shouldn't have. Because she'd been stupid enough to record it.

But why Alessio? Why would he care about her recording Kieran?

Unless they were working together. Unless the rivalry at the club had been an act.

Her grief began transforming into something else. Something harder. Colder.

Rage.

She'd trusted Alessio. Had let him touch her. Had felt something when he'd whispered that she was safe.

But it had all been a lie.

He'd shown her tenderness just to make the betrayal hurt more. Had spared her life just so he could destroy it in a different way.

The cruelty of it was almost beautiful. Almost artistic.

And she was going to make him pay for every second of it.

Dawn light crept through the windows, painting Marco's corpse in cruel gold. The blood had stopped spreading. Had started drying. Turning brown at the edges.

Scarlett laid her brother's body down gently. Closed his eyes. Straightened his limbs.

Then she stood, covered in his blood, and made a promise.

Alessio De Luca would pay for this. She'd dedicate her last breath to watching his empire burn, even if she had to light the match with her own dying hands.