Revenge on The Billionaire

Chapter 5 – The Masked Woman’s Warning

The evening city lights blurred against Lily’s windshield as she sped down the wet New York streets, the steady rhythm of her wipers cutting through the drizzle. She gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual. The call from the private investigator had come abruptly, his words clipped and tense.

“Ma’am, I’ve found a lead. The Blackwells are still alive and well. And I have a man. He was one of them but he won’t talk.”

The memory replayed in her head with each passing street lamp. He had sounded both proud and uneasy. Proud because catching even a small-time member of the Blackwells was no easy feat. Uneasy because he knew what the gang was capable of if word got out.

Now, the time had come. Lily wasn’t going as herself tonight. She wasn’t going as the well-dressed lawyer or the celebrated heiress of the Aguas Vale Empire. No — tonight, she was something else entirely. She pulled into a secluded alley, killed the engine, and opened the glove compartment. Inside lay a sleek black mask. She ran her fingers over its surface, then slid it across her face, tightening the straps until she was unrecognizable. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun and tucked under a cap. No one would know, not even the PI she had hired.

By the time she stepped out of the car, she was no longer Lily Aguas. She was simply the woman who wanted answers.

FEW MOMENTS LATER

The building was an abandoned garage on the outskirts of the city. Its broken windows and rusted shutters blended perfectly into the industrial ruins of the neighborhood. The PI had chosen well — isolated enough that no one would stumble across them.

She pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. A single hanging bulb lit the center of the room. The private Investigator was there, tall and wiry, with a coat pulled over his shoulders. He straightened the moment he saw her.

“You’re here,” he said, his voice low, respectful, cautious. He never called her by name because she never told him her name.

Lily gave a slight nod. “Where is he?”

The Private Investigator gestured toward the far corner. A man sat tied to a chair, wrists bound with rough rope. His clothes were dirty, his face bruised, but his eyes burned with a mixture of fear and defiance. A gag was tied around his mouth, muffling his breaths.

“We caught him earlier today,” the Private Investigator explained. “He was trying to meet someone in the docks. We tracked him and intercepted.”

Lily stepped closer, her boots echoing against the hollow concrete floor. She studied the captive, her head tilting slightly. He looked younger than she expected, maybe mid-thirties. His hair was unkempt, his jawline sharp beneath the stubble. But his eyes — his eyes carried the hardened edge of a man who had seen and done too much.

“Take off the gag,” Lily said.

The Private Investigator hesitated. “He’s not exactly cooperative.”

“I want to hear him.”

The Private Investigator obeyed, pulling the gag free. The captive sucked in air sharply, then spat to the ground.

“Who the hell are you?” he rasped, glaring at Lily.

“Someone who wants answers,” Lily replied coolly, her voice low but steady. The mask concealed her expression, but her tone alone carried weight.

The man smirked despite his bruises. “Do you know who you’re dealing with? You don’t just grab one of us off the street and expect to walk away breathing.”

Lily crouched slightly so she was level with his eyes. “The Blackwells,” she said evenly. “They killed people. Innocent people. I want to know who’s running them now. Who’s giving the orders.”

The man’s jaw clenched. “Kill me if you want. That’s the only way this ends. Because if I open my mouth, they’ll kill me… and everyone I’ve ever cared about.”

For a moment, silence filled the garage. Only the hum of the bulb above them could be heard.

The Private Investigator shifted uncomfortably. “I told you,” he said to Lily. “He won’t break, he’s more afraid of them than he is of us.”

Lily’s voice dropped, firm but calm. “Fear only has power if you let it.” She looked back at the captive. “You already know too much to be safe. The Blackwells won’t forgive you for being caught. Whether you talk or stay silent, they’ll still come for you. The only difference is what you do with your last chance.”

The man’s smirk faltered for just a moment, his eyes flickering. But then he shook his head. “You don’t understand. These people — they don’t forgive. They don’t forget. They burned entire families just to send a message. You think I’ll be the i***t who talks? No. I’d rather die here.”

Lily rose slowly, studying him. There was something raw in his voice, something that spoke not just of fear but of experience. He wasn’t bluffing — he had seen firsthand what the Blackwells did to traitors.

She turned to the Private Investigator. “Untie him.”

The Private Investigator blinked. “What? Ma’am, with all due respect….”

“Untie him.” Her tone left no room for argument.

The Private Investigator reluctantly pulled out a knife and sliced through the ropes. The captive rubbed his wrists, confused but wary. He stayed seated, clearly expecting some kind of trap.

“You’re free to go,” Lily said.

The man narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Lily replied. Then she leaned closer, her masked face inches from his. “But carry a message for me. Go to your boss — whoever sits at the top now and tell him this: his worst nightmare is back and I won’t stop until justice is served.”

Her words cut through the silence like a blade. The Private Investigator stiffened, glancing nervously between them. The captive, for the first time, looked genuinely shaken.

“Who… who are you?” he whispered.

Lily straightened, her mask hiding everything. “You don’t need to know who I am. You only need to know I won’t stop.”

The man swallowed hard, then stumbled to his feet. For a long moment, he stared at her as though trying to memorize her stance, her voice, her presence. Then, without another word, he bolted out of the garage into the night.

The Private Investigator I let out a long breath. “You just let him walk? After everything it took me to grab him?”

“He’s more useful alive than dead,” Lily replied, her voice steady. “Fear spreads faster when it’s carried from within.”

The Private Investigator frowned. “And what if he tells them about you? About us?”

Lily turned toward the dark exit, her figure calm and composed. “Do you know me? Do you know my name? Just like you Mr Private Investigator…. clueless, he is clueless of my identity. All he knows…is that I’m coming.”

She walked out into the night, leaving the Private Investigator standing in the flickering light, unsettled. He realized then that he didn’t really know the woman he was working for. She wasn’t just a client with money to burn. She was something else, something dangerous, something relentless.

And as the garage door creaked shut behind her, the Private Investigator felt a chill crawl down his spine. Whoever this masked woman was, the Blackwells would soon learn her name.