The church was never meant to burn.
It was a relic—tucked in the hills outside the city, all stained glass and rotting wood. Once a refuge for sinners and broken women, now a hideout for a woman trying not to become a monster.
Alina stood in the nave, bathed in shards of golden light. Her leather boots clicked against the marble as she approached the altar, every step a memory she didn’t want.
The man she was meeting had once baptized her.
Now he sold souls for sport.
“Do you still believe in God?” he asked as he lit a cigarette beside a Virgin Mary statue.
“No,” Alina said, “I believe in power.”
Father Luis exhaled slowly. “Then you’ve come to the right place.”
He handed her a file.
Inside: photos, surveillance footage, encrypted transfers, medical records—Arielle.
She flipped t
