As Lana steadied her breath, the weight of the g*n in her hand felt like an anchor. She wasn’t just holding it to protect herself anymore. It was a message. A declaration that this war wasn’t going to end with her surrendering. Dean had underestimated her, but it was clear now: he wasn’t the only one who had prepared for the final move. And his empire wasn’t as invincible as he thought.
The convoy of black cars screeched to a halt in the alley, their headlights slicing through the darkness, casting eerie shadows against the brick walls. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, the air thick with tension. Lana didn’t look away from Dean, but she could feel the weight of his people now surrounding them—Vincent, the driver, the hidden eyes watching from the distance. They were closing in.
Dean
