Chapter Five –
Corvane never slept — it just changed faces.
By night, it glowed like a confession under streetlights; by morning, it hid its crimes under mist and exhaust. Rhea walked through both worlds like someone who didn't belong to either.
The city was quieter than usual, which was never a good sign.
Silence in Corvane meant someone was planning something.
Rhea's phone buzzed as she crossed North Docks.
A single message: Warehouse 7. Midnight. Alone.
No signature. No number she recognized.
She didn't tell Luciana. Not yet.
Trust had become something fragile — a thread stretched too tight. One more pull and it would snap.
Warehouse 7 sat on the edge of the old rail district — half-burnt, half-abandoned, the kind of place the city pretended didn't exist. Rain leaked through holes in the roof, collecting in shallow puddles that reflected the weak light from outside.
Rhea waited, gun holstered, every sense tuned to the sound of footsteps.
They came five minutes past midnight.
Mira stepped out from the shadows, soaked, eyes red from more than rain. "You came."
"Still bad at goodbyes," Rhea said quietly. "You said you knew who betrayed us."
"I do."
Mira took a breath. "But if I tell you, you'll go after her. And she'll kill you before you reach the door."
Rhea frowned. "Her?"
Mira hesitated. "Luciana isn't who she says she is."
Rhea's stomach tightened. "You're lying."
"I wish I was. The Vale empire — it isn't hers. She took it. Bought it in blood. The people who built it are buried under this city. You were her clean slate — her loyal soldier, the one who didn't ask where the bodies went."
Rhea shook her head. "Luciana's not—"
"She is," Mira cut in. "I've seen the files. I've seen your name in them."
The air seemed to vanish.
Rhea's voice was barely a whisper. "What files?"
Mira stepped closer. "The ones that prove she's been feeding intel to Vitani's people — not to betray you, but to control you. Every war, every ambush, every death, she planned it. To keep Corvane balanced in her favor. You're just the only one who didn't know."
Rhea's pulse roared in her ears. She wanted to deny it, but the pieces started clicking together — the missing calls, the cold silences, the timing of every hit that never made sense.
"Why are you telling me this now?" she asked.
"Because she's about to burn it all down," Mira said. "And you're standing too close to the fire."
Rhea didn't remember leaving the warehouse — only the rain, the cold, the way her breath fogged as she stumbled through empty streets.
By the time she reached the compound, dawn was bleeding into the sky.
Luciana was waiting, as if she'd known Rhea would come.
Her expression was calm, too calm. The kind of calm that hides an earthquake.
"You've been busy," she said softly.
Rhea froze. "You were watching me."
"I watch everyone," Luciana said. "It's the only way to survive."
Rhea took a slow step forward. "Tell me the truth. Were you working with Vitani?"
Luciana didn't flinch. "I was using them. There's a difference."
"People died."
Luciana's eyes were steady. "So that more wouldn't."
"Don't feed me that," Rhea snapped. "You lied to me. You lied to everyone."
Luciana's voice broke its calm — sharp, fierce. "I kept you alive!"
The silence that followed was jagged. Rhea felt the room tilt — the weight of everything between them crashing down.
"You think that matters?" Rhea whispered. "You think saving me gives you the right to own me?"
Luciana's hand trembled. "I never owned you, Rhea. I needed you."
Rhea stared at her — the woman who had saved her, trained her, turned her into something dangerous. And maybe that was the worst part — she wasn't sure if she hated her for lying or loved her for making her believe in something at all.
Luciana took a step forward. "You're the only one who ever saw me for what I am."
Rhea's voice cracked. "And what's that?"
Luciana smiled, a slow, broken thing. "A monster trying to build something beautiful."
Outside, thunder rolled again. The storm hadn't passed; it had only waited for them to fall apart.
Rhea turned away, but Luciana's voice stopped her. "You walk out that door, everything burns. You know that, don't you?"
Rhea didn't answer.
She just looked back — once, briefly — then walked out into the rain.
And as the first light of morning broke through the clouds, Corvane began to burn.