The warehouse smelled of damp metal and old smoke. Liora scanned the room. Kieran was already there, eyes on a laptop.
"They're watching," he said.
"Every move we make, every ally we contact. They know someone's helping you."
I know," Liora replied. Her voice was calm, precise. "Let them watch. It doesn't change anything."
Footsteps echoed outside. A woman stepped in. Tall, confident, sharp eyes. "Liora Kane," she said.
"I hear you're stirring trouble."
Liora didn't flinch. "I'm not here to hear about me. Who are you?"
"Call me Tessa," the woman said. "I know how to move through this city without leaving a trace. And I want in."
Kieran frowned. "We don't know if we can trust her."
Liora studied Tessa. Every instinct told her this woman was dangerous. Useful.
Necessary. "Fine," she said. "But one wrong move and you're out."
Tessa nodded. "Understood."
They spent hours planning. Blueprints spread across the table.
Routes, exits, surveillance points. Every detail mattered. Liora was precise,
calculating. She trusted no one completely. Trust was a weapon, and she intended to wield it carefully.
Then came the message. A simple text. Three words
We know
Kieran stiffened. "They're closer than we thought."
Liora didn't respond. She had expected it. Every bold move left a trail. Every action invited retaliation.
She was ready.
The rival emerged the next day. Marcus Vey, the man who had stolen her first idea, the one who thought he controlled everything.
He walked through the streets as if the city belonged to him. His confidence made others flinch, but Liora didn't. She watched. She waited.
And she planned.
Tessa leaned close. "He won't see it coming."
"No," Liora said. "He won't."
The city was a chessboard.
They were pieces and players all at once. And Liora Kane had learned one thing: in this game, you either rise without apology, or you get crushed.
She clenched her fists. This was no longer survival. This was war.