Meanwhile
"The job is done. The bastards took the bait and killed the prisoners. And just as you predicted, Royal Minister George Flavio killed himself after receiving our little gift. We used it to frame him for the entire orchestration. Everything unfolded exactly as you foresaw.
You killed two birds with one stone and left your enemies guessing, vulnerable. They executed the prisoners, yet they don't understand why George killed himself and took the blame—when in truth, they were the masterminds behind it all. Now they're wary, uncertain of their unseen hunter, and desperate to uncover who it is. And you… you will be their first suspect."
The voice echoed from the other end of the phone as Ariel stood on the balcony of her room.
It was late afternoon. Storm clouds blanketed the sky, and light rain showers fell silently, gracefully.
"Oh, come on, JJ. What? Me? Pfft! As if." Ariel scoffed. "Those bastards are so foolish and immature they won't dare try anything—at least not yet. Besides, I've already made sure none of this trails back to me. In fact, they did the work for me by killing their puppet in haste, just to keep her from exposing them. She was the only one who could've dragged me into their mess, but now… tsk. She's gone, and she'll never do it."
"Okay, but be careful, Bailey," JJ warned from the other end of the line. "I have a feeling the Dragon is aware of the extra protection around you and your sponsor. I heard he has dragonflies tailing you. He's already suspicious, and it's only a matter of time before he uncovers your games and figures out who you are."
Ariel pondered JJ's words as she moved to the edge of the balcony, narrowing her eyes at a shadow crouching in the thick bushes near her room.
"Mmm… you're right, JJ. The Dragon is keeping an eye on me. He's already suspicious, which means he must've sent his Shadow Demons to dig up something about us. Tell the Black Widows to intercept them and keep them from finding anything. I hate to admit it, but we have many enemies out to destroy us, and they'll do anything to succeed. They might spill something to the Shadow Demons, and that would complicate everything. That's the last thing I want right now—especially since I haven't been crowned yet." Ariel's voice was firm, her eyes still locked on the lurking shadow.
"Mmm… don't worry, Bailey. I'm on it. But… don't you think having the Dragon as our ally could be beneficial? I'm just saying—it could be good to have greater power on our side. United, we might achieve great things. Don't you think?" JJ asked.
Ariel sighed before replying. "It's not a bad idea, JJ. We do share some common enemies. But involving the Dragon would risk exposing us and limiting our mission. The Dragon doesn't share our values, virtues, or commitment to the people of the Kingdom—or the world. He is brutal, selfish, and indifferent to human lives. If we involve him, people will lose their trust in us, and that's something I cannot allow. For now, we keep him off our trail… until otherwise."
"Okay, Bailey. You're the boss. We'll do as you say," JJ conceded. "So now that that bastard George Flavio killed himself, what are we going to do with his companions? Knowing one of them is gone will throw them into panic. They might act rashly and hurt those boys and girls. What should we do?"
Hiss…
Ariel hissed before exhaling loudly.
"I can't believe the Dragon is so stupid and blind as to allow rats and snakes like Flavio to run human trafficking right under his nose. Is he really all talk, brutal strength, and no brains? Tsk… unbelievable." Ariel paused, sighing heavily. "Anyway, leave it to RK and the Phantom Spiders. They're already on a mission to rescue them. For now, concentrate on keeping those Dragonflies away from me and my father. Ask Cody to prepare the footage of the royal prison—where those bloody bastards killed that woman—and have Spade reappear. I want it on my tab by morning."
"Okay, Boss. Spade already placed the body of that gangster rapist who overdosed in the cell and morphed his face to resemble the Crown Prince. Everything is fixed," JJ replied.
"Good. Keep me updated," Ariel ordered.
"Okay, Boss. See you when you see me," JJ said before cutting the call.
Ariel exhaled, removing the voice automator from her neck. She turned her gaze back to the light rainfall, watching the storm veil the world in silence.
She smiled brightly as she gazed at the sky. Leaning over the edge, she stretched out her hand, allowing the light raindrops to fall gently onto her palm.
Closing her eyes briefly, she whispered, "The sweet scent of rain… its droplets always know how to make me feel alive. I am alive."
She inhaled deeply, her smile widening as the raindrops continued to dance across her hand.
...
Meanwhile…
A pair of golden honeydew eyes watched her from a distance, peering through a window.
Daniel observed with quiet amusement as Ariel smiled, stretching out her arm into the rain. Just then, a streak of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating her. The raindrops shimmered like golden jewels, dancing around her in slow motion. The light crowned her beauty, making her look like a fairy princess bathed in sunlight.
She couldn't have looked more beautiful.
And strangely, it made his heart race.
He felt the urge to bask in the glow of her radiant smile. It was warm, infectious—so much so that his own lips curled into an unconscious smile.
He couldn't help it. Seeing her happy always stirred emotions he thought he had buried long ago. Emotions he believed he would never experience again.
But he was no longer a man. He was a beast. A ruthless monster. A cold being, too dangerous to approach. He had shed those petty feelings—the weakness of fragile, pathetic people.
He was forged in fire and ice. Like a dragon: cold-blooded, yet breathing fire.
That was what he had become.
But this woman…
This Flamingo-Vulture was breaking through his resolve in ways he couldn't explain.
She was truly dangerous.
She intrigued both him and the beast within. Both longed to claim her, to mark her, to trap her in his arms forever.
To make her his for eternity.
'This woman is really dangerous', he thought, watching Ariel revel in the rain.
Daniel's eyes flashed red—a sign that his beast agreed with him completely.
"I don't believe this. Are you truly seeing what I'm seeing right now?"
"I told you he smiled, and you didn't believe me. Now look at him."
"This is… unbelievable."
Daniel was disturbed from his quiet enjoyment of watching his Flamingo by whispers echoing behind him.
He slowly turned to see Blake and Sam, their eyes wide, mouths agape, staring at him in disbelief—as if they were witnessing something entirely new. They didn't even flinch, frozen in place.
He raised an eyebrow. 'What are these idiots gaping at?'
Turning toward the mirror on the wall near his desk, his eyes widened slightly in shock.
There it was. A trace of a smile lingering on his lips.
He was smiling.
"What the fuck…" he muttered.
He smiled.
He actually smiled.
Again.
Damn! What was that Flamingo doing to him—turning him into a soft, pathetic fool like this? Him… smiling. That was a taboo he had upheld fiercely for so long.
So what the hell happened?
How had he allowed such a thing to happen to him?
And worse—right in front of these fools.
Knowing that golden, blonde-haired idiot, he would never let this go. He would torment him with it for life.
"Fuck…" he muttered again, turning his gaze back to the idiots in the room.
His eyes widened in shock, to find that Blake and Sam were now at the window, gawking at the very sight that had made him smile.
They were gawking at his Flamingo.
His Flamingo.
Hell no.
That was his show, not theirs.
Nobody gets to gawk at what is his.
No. One.
Without thinking, he grabbed them both by the collar and hurled them away from the window, throwing them across the room before yanking the curtain shut.
BAM!
BAM!
Loud crashing sounds echoed through the room as Sam and Blake slammed into the desk, tossed like ragged dolls.
"Ow! Ow! My back—my back!" Blake groaned, clutching his spine.
Sam winced, holding his arm with a grimace.
Blake staggered to his feet, glaring at Daniel, who still stood with his back to them, one hand gripping the curtain he had just drawn shut.
"The hell, man! Is that how you treat a recovering patient? Ow!" Blake whined. "It's not our fault you're crazy about your hot chick, doing unbelievable things because of her. Sheesh! But I gotta admit… she's really got you good, man. She's got you real good. Ow."
Blake winced again, settling onto the desk, then glanced at Sam. "You good, man?"
Sam nodded slightly, though still wincing. "Yeah, I'm good. Might need to get this arm checked out, though."
Blake chuckled under his breath, whispering to Sam, "Now you see what I go through every day. That's our Prince for you—so unpredictable. You never know what he'll do next. Even when he's just trying to hide from his true feelings by acting a little loco…"
Sam pressed his lips together, stifling a chuckle of his own.
Daniel heard every word. He exhaled loudly.
The sound made both men flinch, sitting awkwardly and rigid on the desk, fists curled against their mouths as they struggled to suppress their laughter.
"Sam…" Daniel called out.
Sam immediately composed himself and stood at attention. "Yes… mm… Your Highness."
Daniel sighed. "What the fuck are you doing in my room? And especially with this bozo—who doesn't take recovery seriously but insists on chasing a vacation of death instead. What do you want? If you're here to spew nonsense, leave right now. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to break your other arm."
Sam swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Blake before turning back to Daniel, whose crimson eyes locked onto him, burning through his soul. He swallowed again, forcing confidence into his voice.
"We just got word from one of our inside men who investigated Royal Minister George Flavio's house after his death. He said that before Flavio committed suicide, he received a parcel—an envelope containing something. Unfortunately, the minister destroyed the contents by burning them."
Sam pulled out his tablet, typed quickly, and handed it to Daniel. "The photos show the remains of what was burned. We also had one of our men trace whether the parcel came through courier services or was personally delivered. And… we found something interesting."
He paused, pulling an envelope from his pocket. Wincing slightly, he handed it to Blake.
"They're pictures of young girls and boys, all approximately between the ages of ten and eighteen. They were hidden in a bookcase inside Flavio's office. After thorough examination, we discovered these children are all from his private school in Metropolis. However, five of them have been reported missing by their families. Two have been gone for nearly two weeks, and three for six days. No one knows their whereabouts—only that they went to school and never returned."
BAM!
The loud slam of a desk echoed through the room. Blake had struck it, his eyes glowing faintly white as he clutched the photos of the children.
"He was a bloody human trafficker! That fucking bastard! How the hell did we miss this? How!" he roared.
Daniel didn't look at him. He didn't say a word. Yet his silence was heavier than any shout—the room instantly grew cold, like the inside of a refrigerator.
His crimson gaze narrowed on the image displayed on the tablet.
Deep within the burned debris, a small piece of yellow paper remained. Etched upon it was a symbol—a logo.
Daniel zoomed in. The symbol was an eagle, with a "P" in the center, designed to look as though it was smoking.
His mind flashed back to a conversation with Wisp before the Dragonfly was attacked:
"The Shadow Demons asked around and managed to choke a name out of someone—'The Phantom Eagles.' They're professionals. They operate in the shadows, loved and feared by nearly everyone. Unfortunately, he couldn't get the name of the group they belong to. Forgive me."
Daniel's face twisted as the memory sharpened.
"Phantom Eagles…" he muttered.
His thoughts shifted to the men shifters he had seen earlier. Even the woman he instructed Stinger to capture was also a shifter, so he caught the real one, not the decoy.
"Phantom Eagles…" he repeated, his eyes narrowing at the photo.
Then, as if struck by sudden realization, he stomped out of the room without warning.
Blake and Sam exchanged bewildered looks before rushing after him.
They caught him stomping toward the royal prison on the outskirts of the palace.
As soon as he arrived, he burst through the door of the surveillance room, startling the security guards inside.
"Y–Your Highness!" the guards stammered, nearly falling from their chairs as they scrambled to greet him.
Daniel ignored them and went straight to the monitors.
"Pull up the footage from the moment the prisoners were brought here. Now!" he commanded.
The guards flinched, confused as to why the prince wanted to see the footage again, but immediately rushed into action. They pulled up the recordings from the time the prisoners were brought into the facility.
The footage showed them being escorted in, searched, and taken to their cells.
After a while, a millisecond glitch flickered across the screen. Suddenly, the prisoners were convulsing, foaming at the mouth, and collapsing to the ground. Chaos followed as they were discovered and rushed to the infirmary.
Nothing else unusual appeared—except for that glitch.
Daniel had already watched the footage seventeen times before, never finding anything beyond that anomaly.
His eyes glowed with frustration. He was on the verge of exploding in anger—until his left eye caught something on one of the monitors. It was the footage of the prisoners being searched.
He leaned closer, voice sharp. "Show me that footage."
The guard nodded quickly and played the recording.
The footage showed the man being undressed and searched by the guards.
"Stop!" Daniel commanded. The image froze as the man raised his arms to put his vest back on. "Zoom in on his right arm."
The monitor zoomed in, revealing a tattoo.
It was an eagle with a "P" in the center, designed to look as though it was smoking.
Daniel glanced at the photo on the tablet. It was the same symbol.
"Son of a bitch!" he cursed. "Print that damn picture for me!"
He ordered sharply before stomping out of the room.
Blake and Sam exchanged bewildered looks once again. Blake quickly followed him, leaving Sam behind with the guards.
Daniel stomped into the infirmary and burst through the door of the autopsy room, startling the forensic doctors inside.
"Ah—what the hell… who—" one doctor began, before his eyes widened in shock at the sight of the Crown Prince.
"Y–Your Highness," he stammered, bowing his head in greeting.
Daniel didn't bother to acknowledge him. He went straight to the dead male prisoner, yanked the sheet off, and inspected both arms for the tattoo.
Nothing.
"Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!" he roared, glaring at the doctors. "Make sure you bring me the full autopsy report on this bastard. I want to know if poison killed him—or something else. Understood?"
The doctors flinched but nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."
Daniel stormed out of the room, Blake trailing behind. Blake quickened his pace until he caught up with him.
"Why do I get the feeling our mysterious opponents have their names written all over this?" Blake whispered to Daniel.
"You guessed right. And only one person is going to answer to me for this. Since you don't want to rest but insist on working, get your hound dogs to help Spot track down our moles." Daniel handed him the tablet, the symbol zoomed in on the screen.
Blake nodded. "I'm on it. But remember—this is a favor, and I'm going to want another zero added to that cheque." He mused sarcastically before slipping down the other hallway at the intersection, escaping Daniel's inevitable retort.
Daniel sighed as he watched him disappear. "Tsk… damn Bozo," he snickered, before turning down the opposite hallway.
He walked briskly, weaving through corridors until he reached his destination.
Standing before a set of double doors, he drew a deep breath.
He stepped forward, paused, hesitated, shook his head, and then knocked.
"Yes. Who is it?"
A sweet voice echoed from inside.
Daniel did not reply. He stood there for a few moments, reluctant to be here. But with everything he had discovered, only one person fit the criteria as his suspect—and he needed to confirm it.
Just then, the door opened.
His Flamingo emerged from the other side.
She wore a casual shirt, jeans, and sneakers, her hair tied back in a ponytail.
Even dressed simply, she looked rowdy and maddeningly alluring. The thought stirred his beast within, but he forced it down, suppressing the urge and calming himself. To his amazement, his Flamingo didn't seem surprised to see him at all.
It was as if she had been expecting him.
"Lady Ariel," he addressed her, inclining his head in greeting.
Ariel bowed deeply. "Your Highness."
Daniel hummed, his gaze fixed intently on her. "I believe we owe each other a conversation about what transpired today. May I come in?"
Ariel lowered her gaze and nodded. "Yes, of course." She gestured for him to enter.
As soon as Daniel stepped inside, a shadow appeared in the hallway before Ariel.
She looked at the figure and nodded, dismissing it.
"This is going to be a long talk," she whispered, turning back to see Daniel already seated, his eyes locked on her.
She closed the door behind her.