The Night of Smoke and Blood

The evening started beautifully.

Larson had organized a private gala at one of the family’s hotels to celebrate their recent successes. The entire top floor was reserved — glittering chandeliers, live music, champagne flowing. Guests from the business world mingled with a few trusted allies from the underworld.

For a while, everything was perfect.

She stayed close to Alina and Heluria, quietly observing, her calm presence almost regal. The mask she wore tonight wasn’t silver and obsidian — it was the perfect disguise of an innocent younger sister enjoying a family night out.

But then it happened.

The lights flickered.

The music stopped.

And smoke filled the air.

Within seconds, the joyous atmosphere turned to chaos. Armed men in black stormed the ballroom, their faces hidden. Their leader stepped forward, holding a gun, his voice sharp:

“Kim Larson. Step forward. Or we make everyone bleed.”

Larson’s jaw clenched. Archer immediately moved to shield Alina, while Julian and Jackson pulled the women closer. Vincent cursed under his breath, ready to fight.

She didn’t move.

But inside, something cold snapped into place.

While everyone’s attention was on the attackers, she slipped away into the smoke — silent, unseen.

Five minutes later, screams echoed from the hallway outside.

One by one, the gunmen began to fall.

No one saw who struck them — only shadows flashing in the smoke, the faint glint of steel, and the sound of suppressed gunfire. The leader tried to retreat, but he didn’t get far. A masked figure appeared behind him, twisting his wrist until the gun clattered to the ground.

Her voice, modulated and sharp, sliced through the panic:

“Leave. Now.”

The man didn’t argue.

When the smoke cleared, the ballroom was eerily quiet. The attackers were gone — dragged out by their own surviving men — and not a single member of the Kim family had been touched.

“Who… who saved us?” Yeona whispered, still clutching Larson’s arm.

“They left this.” Jackson bent to pick up a black card lying on the floor. A single symbol was printed on it — the emblem of the masked empress.

Julian’s eyes widened. “She was here.”

Vincent let out a low whistle. “The Mafia Empress herself saved us? In person?”

“She’s never been seen this close,” Archer said, looking grim. “Whoever she is… she clearly just declared that we are under her protection.”

The family was shaken but grateful, the mood shifting from fear to awe.

But Riyan didn’t look relieved.

He looked thoughtful.

Later that night, he found her standing alone on the hotel’s rooftop balcony, the city lights reflecting in her calm eyes.

“You weren’t scared,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

She turned, her expression soft. “I knew we’d be safe.”

“Because you trust her?” he asked, his voice laced with something sharp.