Word spread fast.
By the time Matilda and Nico reached their next safe house—a low-key, dimly lit bar in an abandoned part of town—her name was already on the lips of every enforcer, mercenary, and kingpin in the city.
The Consortium was dead. Their empire burned. Their money, gone.
And Matilda was still breathing.
She sat at the corner booth, a drink in hand, listening. The bar was mostly empty, save for a few shadowy figures who had slithered in after news of The Consortium’s fall hit the streets.
Eyes flickered toward her. Calculating. Measuring.
The bounty on her head had risen. Five million.
Good.
Let them come.
Nico leaned forward, voice low. "They’re watching you."
Matilda took a slow sip of whiskey, then placed the glass down. "I know."
She let the silence stretch, the t
