Elena stood up, ignoring the blood dripping from her palm. She walked around the table until she was face-to-face with the Ghost.
"You think you're the only one who knows how to play with codes, Cassian?" she asked.
"You've been watching me for six years, but you never actually saw me you thought I was scrubbing floors because I had to. You didn't realize I was memorizing every detail of your operations while I was 'cleaning' Tom's office."
She pulled out her gold phone and tapped a single command.
The large screens in the dining hall flickered to life. It wasn't security footage. It was a live feed of the Luanda Sanctuary.
The "Red Lion" the real Patriarch was sitting in a high-backed chair. He was holding an old Nokia. And on the screen of that Nokia was a single text message from Elena.
"The Ghost is at my table. He has your cufflink. And I have your daughter."
Cassian's face went from triumph to absolute, bone-chilling terror.
"You... you contacted him?"
"I didn't need your codes, Cassian," Elena said, stepping into his space.
"I had the one thing you never had. The Patriarch's private frequency my father gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday He told me to only use it when the world was burning."
She leaned in, her voice a ghost of a whisper.
"The 'Red Lion' is already on his way here and he doesn't like it when people touch his pride."
Outside, the sound of a dozen heavy-duty helicopters began to thrum, shaking the very foundations of the Luo Estate. The "True Power" had finally been provoked.
The helicopters didn't just arrive; they invaded. The noise was so loud it felt like it was pressing against Elena's chest, making it hard to breathe. Outside, the garden she had spent years tending was being flattened by the wind from the rotors. Dust and dead leaves kicked up against the glass windows, a frantic scratching sound that made the whole dining room feel like it was under attack.
Cassian wasn't laughing anymore. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost—or realized he was about to become one. His hands, usually so steady and arrogant, were shaking so hard he had to grip the edge of the mahogany table.
"He's here," Cassian whispered, his voice cracking like dry wood. "Elena, you fool... you've called down the lightning. You think you're in control? You've just signed everyone's death warrant."
"I didn't sign anything, Cassian," Elena said, her voice low but sharp enough to cut through the roar of the engines. "I just stopped being the only one afraid in this room."
The terrace doors were kicked open. It wasn't the "Red Lion." It was a group of men in grey gear, looking more like a SWAT team than bodyguards. They didn't say a word. They just spread out, their boots heavy on the expensive carpet, forming a path.
Then, a woman walked in. She wasn't a supermodel or a villain; she was an older woman in a sharp, boring grey suit with her hair pulled back so tight it made her eyes look narrow. She looked like a high-level accountant who happened to have an army behind her.
She walked straight past Cassian and Silas as if they were furniture and stopped in front of Elena. She was carrying a small silver tray, and on it sat that same old, beat-up Nokia. It was buzzing.
"Madam Luo," the woman said. Her voice was flat, professional, and terrifyingly cold. "I am Hestia. The Master has heard your message. He has seen the cufflink."
Hestia looked over at Cassian. It was the way you'd look at a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. "Cassian Luanda. You've been a very busy man. Texting on WhatsApp, playing at being a king... The Master finds your ambition pathetic."
"Hestia, wait—" Cassian started, standing up.
He didn't get another word out. Two of the men in grey grabbed him by the shoulders. They didn't punch him; they just hauled him toward the door like he was a bag of trash. Cassian's expensive shoes skidded on the marble, a desperate, pathetic squeaking sound that echoed through the hall until the doors slammed shut behind him.
Hestia turned back to Elena and held out the tray. The Nokia was still buzzing.
"He wants to speak to the mother of his daughter."
Elena took the phone. The plastic was warm, and it felt heavy in her hand—not because of the weight, but because of who was on the other end. She pressed it to her ear.
"I'm here," she said.
There was a long silence. No static. Just the sound of someone breathing—slow, steady, and dangerously calm.
"Elena Luo," the voice said. It was deep, sounding like it came from the bottom of a well. It wasn't angry. It was worse. It was indifferent. "You've caused quite a mess in my family. You found a stain I didn't even know I had."
"It wasn't a mess," Elena said, her grip tightening on the phone. "It was a cancer. Your brother was using my daughter to keep his power. He was going to sell me to a man named Ochanda."
"Ochanda is a cockroach," the voice replied.
"But he is a cockroach that controls the ports you need. You want to prove you're more than just a girl who was in the wrong bed seven years ago? You have thirty days."
Elena's heart skipped. "Thirty days for what?"
"To wipe the name Ochanda off the map use Silas. Use your father's name. I don't care how you do it if the ports are yours in thirty days, I will come to your house. I will see the girl. And we will see if you deserve to stay in her life."
"And if I don't?" Elena asked, her voice trembling just a little.
"Then I take her. And you will never see her again do we have a deal, Elena?"
The line went dead before she could even answer. The click sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.
Hestia took the phone back, gave a small, stiff bow, and walked out. Within minutes, the helicopters were gone, leaving nothing but a ruined garden and a house that felt too quiet.
Silas walked over to Elena. He looked exhausted, his face pale. He took a napkin and wrapped it around her hand, where the glass had cut her.
"He's a monster, Elena," Silas said softly.
"You shouldn't have called him."
"I had to," Elena said, looking down at her bandaged hand.
"Because the only thing that can stop a Ghost is a Lion. And now? Now I have thirty days to become a hunter."