Night fell hard. Rae sat in a dim bar, whiskey burning his throat. The ledger lay on the table, pages untouched. A shadow slipped beside him — Victor Jr., gaunt, eyes like dead embers.
“You think you win?” Victor hissed. “My brother’s death bought you nothing.”
Rae’s hand hovered near his gun. “You’re a ghost.”
Leila arrived, breathless, sketchbook clutched. “Rae, we need to—”
Mia stepped from the shadows, a bruise forming on her cheek. “Stop. I… I did it for us.”
Leila’s world tilted. “Mia, you worked with him?”
Mia’s voice cracked. “He threatened to kill you. I thought… I could control it. I’m sorry.”
Kira burst in, weapon drawn. “Drop it, Victor!”
Victor laughed, pulling a trigger hidden in his sleeve. A dart flew, embedding in Mia’s arm. She collapsed, convulsing.
“No!” Leila screamed, dropping the sketchbook. Pages fluttered, one landing on Victor’s shoe — a sketch of a phoenix rising.
Rae tackled Victor, a fierce fight spilling tables. Kira fired, hitting Victor’s shoulder. He slumped, gasping, “Burn it all.”
Leila cradled Mia, tears mixing with charcoal. “We end this.”