STAR POV

Star sat behind her desk in a tailored black suit, posture flawless, expression unreadable. Two heavily armored bodyguards stood behind her like statues as she calmly counted stacks of cash—the payment Dakota had delivered.

“Bag it,” she said without looking up. “Safe downstairs.”

The guards moved immediately.

Star rose and stepped toward the window, gazing out over the city. Seconds later, her phone rang.

Mara.

“Yes?” Star answered.

“My queen,” Mara said quickly. “Jakari is in Little Rock. He attacked me. He stole files.”

That got her attention.

Jakari had always been smart. Always dangerous.

“Get your ass to my office,” Star said flatly.

Before Mara could reply, the line went dead.

The doors opened again.

Azrathion—wearing human form—entered, holding three severed heads by the hair. Blood dripped onto the marble floor.

“Only two of you can do your jobs,” Star said calmly. “My third associate can’t even keep files secure.”

Azrathion dropped the heads. “What’s next, if Jakari’s compromised us?”

Before she could answer, another soldier was dragged in—injured, limping, held upright by two guards. He dropped to his knees.

Star tilted her head. “Why are you here?”

“I failed,” he said. “I couldn’t bring Jakari in alive. I was… sending a message.”

Star waved her hand. The guards began beating him.

“Wait,” the soldier screamed.

Star raised her hand again. Silence.

She stepped closer, eyes locking onto his. “I told you to bring him alive. You disobeyed me because you wanted to play hero.”

She circled him slowly.

“Your men are dead. You lost Jakari. But I have eyes all over Arkansas.”

She lifted his chin. “So I’m not worried.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “No disrespect.”

Azrathion moved forward—but Star stopped him without looking.

“You failed me again, Justin,” she said softly. “And I don’t allow mistakes in my mafia.”

She dug her nails into his jaw—and ripped it free.

Then she raised her handgun and fired once.

The body dropped.

“Clean this up,” she told the guards, already turning away.

Azrathion took a seat, watching her closely.

“Jakari’s in Little Rock,” Star said. “But you won’t retrieve him.”

Azrathion frowned. “Then what?”

“I need you and your demons elsewhere.”

“What about the Seven Masters?”

Star smiled faintly. “They’re my problem.”

She pressed a button. A map appeared—Egypt.

Azrathion smiled.

“I want the pyramid,” Star said. “Everything inside it. Gold. Diamonds. Rubies. Over eighty billion.”

“And after?” he asked.

“Expansion,” she replied. “An island. A second base. Production. Profit.”

Azrathion bowed and left.

A soldier entered. “Mara’s helicopter has arrived.”

I stood and nodded at my men who escorted me to the helipad.

Mara’s boots touched the helipad, the rotors still screaming above her. She barely had time to straighten before Star was already there—waiting.

Star didn’t smile.

That was worse.

Mara took a step forward. “Star, I—”

Gunfire erupted behind her.

Wet. Immediate. Final.

Mara flinched as her guards collapsed one by one, blood splashing across the concrete. The sound echoed against the city, then vanished into silence.

Her breath hitched.

Star walked closer, heels clicking softly, unbothered by the bodies at her feet.

“Do you know why I didn’t kill you with them?” Star asked calmly.

Mara swallowed hard. “B-because I can fix this.”

Star stopped inches from her face.

“No,” she said. “Because I want you to understand what fear actually is.”

Mara’s knees almost buckled. “I swear—Jakari wasn’t supposed to get that far. My systems—my men—”

“Your systems failed.”

“Your men failed.”

“And you failed,” Star cut in, her voice still quiet, still controlled.

Mara shook her head. “He’s different. You know that. He thinks ahead—he adapts—”

Star tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Careful,” she warned. “You’re starting to sound like you admire him.”

Mara froze. “No. Never. I—”

Star stepped even closer, her presence crushing. “You forget something, Mara. Before you had money, before you had soldiers, before you had this face—” she brushed a finger along Mara’s cheek, almost gentle, “—you had me.”

Mara’s eyes burned. “I know. I remember.”

“Do you?” Star asked softly. “Because it seems you’ve forgotten what happens when you embarrass me.”

She drew a blade and pressed it flat against Mara’s chest.

Mara gasped as the cold metal dragged slowly downward, slicing fabric, biting skin just enough to bleed.

“I could end you right now,” Star whispered. “But death is easy. Death lets you escape.”

She leaned in, lips near Mara’s ear.

“I want you awake. I want you desperate. I want you chasing Jakari like your life depends on it—because it does.”

Star pulled back and looked her over with clinical disinterest.

“You have seventy-two hours.”

She placed a small digital timer into Mara’s shaking hands.

“If Jakari steps one foot outside Arkansas,” Star continued, “I’ll make sure every contact you have disappears. Every safe place burns. And you?” Her smile finally appeared—thin and cruel. “You’ll live just long enough to regret surviving.”

Mara’s voice broke. “Yes… mama.”

Star’s eyes hardened at the word.

“Don’t use that name unless you mean it,” she said. “Now go.”

Mara backed away, clutching the timer like a death sentence, tears streaking her face as she stumbled toward the helicopter.

Star watched it lift off.

Only then did she turn to her guards.

“Take me home,” she said calmly.

And the city kept breathing—unaware of how close it was to suffocating.

Steam curled lazily from the jacuzzi as Star lowered herself into the water, heat sealing around her skin like a second veil. The chaos of the day bled away inch by inch. Her bear padded closer, massive head settling beside the tub, breath slow and protective. She rested a hand briefly against its fur—grounding, familiar.

Johnson approached soundlessly, tablet held at chest level.

“Today’s profit?” she asked, eyes closed.

“$9.5 million,” he replied.

Her lips curved faintly. “Losses?”

“Thirty-point-two million.”

She opened her eyes then, gaze lifting to the cavernous ceiling carved from stone. “Acceptable.”

“And total holdings?” she asked.

Johnson hesitated just long enough to matter. “Four hundred four billion, eight hundred twenty-three million, three hundred twenty-four thousand, one hundred twenty-three dollars and thirty cents.”

Star leaned back fully, water lapping against her shoulders.

“So much blood,” she murmured, almost amused. “For such small numbers.”

Johnson said nothing.

“Tomorrow,” she continued, “the fleet moves. Double security. Triple redundancy. Anyone who hesitates—replace them.”

“Yes, my queen.”

She waved a hand. “Dismissed.”

Johnson bowed and withdrew.

The water had barely settled when her phone vibrated against the stone.

Star didn’t move right away.

She let it ring once more.

Then she answered.

“Speak.”

Dakota’s voice came through, cautious. “I’ve got a few men down here. Independent. They want a meeting.”

Star traced a finger along the rim of the glass beside her. “Florida?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she said calmly. “I’ll send someone.”

Dakota exhaled, relieved. “Appreciate that. They’re… particular about who they deal with.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“They won’t be disappointed.”

She ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Steam rose higher, swallowing the room as Star leaned back into the water. In her mind, the route was already planned. The timing precise. The faces memorized.

Dakota thought he was arranging introductions.

He had no idea who was actually coming.

And that was exactly how Star preferred it.