Milan, Italy — El'Raez Villa
Light rain danced on the fogged-up glass windows. The villa was not dark, but neither was it bright. The yellow glow from the hanging lamp outside seemed unwilling to touch the quiet corners of the house. The kitchen smelled of old coffee. The living room still carried the scent of memories, lingering in the air.
Inez stood for a long time in front of the sink, holding a cold coffee cup in her hand, but she kept gripping it. Not because she was thirsty, but because she didn't know what else to hold on to when the whole world felt loose.
Enzo sat at the dining table, staring at his phone screen for what must have been the hundredth time. His fingers trembled slightly."No messages yet," he said, unprompted.
Inez said nothing. She didn't nod, didn't respond. Instead, she turned and walked slowly up the stairs, her heart heavy with thoughts of La Reyna — so far away from sight.
Her steps were silent, but weighed down.
She stopped in front of La Reyna's room.The doorknob was still cold — just like that last night the girl walked out, wearing her black coat and that unnervingly calm gaze for someone carrying too many scars.
She slowly opened the door.
The room was tidy. Too tidy.Like a room that knew its owner wouldn't be back for a long time.
On the side table, a yellowed note sat folded in half — Fathya's handwriting from her teenage years:
"Ma... if one day I disappear, don't worry. I'm just looking for the way back home."
Inez stepped inside.On the edge of the bed lay a black jacket — La Reyna's favourite since she was a teenager.There was still a tiny fold at the sleeve, still a strand of long hair clinging to the inner collar.
She sat down slowly.Her hand reached for the jacket, fingers gently rubbing the small tear at the side — the one La Reyna always said she would fix, but never got around to.
Tears didn't fall. But her eyes remained empty. For a long time.
"If you can hear my voice inside your heart, my dear... please come home.You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to win.Just come home."
Inez's voice was barely audible, as if she was speaking not to the world, but to a space inside La Reyna's soul — the one she knew was restless, somewhere far away.
Enzo finally entered the room. He leaned against the wall, watching Inez silently."We've been through a lot. But this time... I feel empty, Enzo. Like I left her first, not the other way around."Enzo walked over slowly, sitting beside her."If I could trade places... I'd go in her stead."Inez clutched the jacket, pressing it against her chest."She's not just a daughter.She's the only living piece of my soul that's left."
Silence.
Only the sound of rain tapping on the glass.And outside — Milan appeared ordinary.But quietly, two ageing hearts were waiting... for a daughter who might return no longer as a daughter.
And still, they would open the door.And still, they would welcome her — with her wounds, her vengeance, all the darkness she might bring home.
Because that is love.And love doesn't need an explanation.
Madrid, Spain — Torre de Madrid
Lucien stood on the balcony of Torre de Madrid, ninth floor, a cigar between his fingers that had never been lit. The drizzle gently soaked the city of Madrid, casting faint reflections of neon lights across the streets.
But his eyes remained empty.His gaze was not on the bustling city below, but fixed upon a single figure, buried deep beneath an older city — Istanbul.
The table in the living room lay in disarray, scattered with intelligence reports.Blurry photographs showed blood symbols drawn on the crumbling walls of an abandoned building somewhere in Eastern Europe.Beside them, handwritten notes spoke of ancient rituals — and a name now hunted by too many: La Reyna.
He clenched his jaw. Among all his power and influence, there was one thing he could never command — her absence.
His mobile phone was still in his hand. The screen was dark.No messages. No calls.
He tightened his grip on the device, his knuckles whitening from the force."Fathya..." he whispered, his voice hoarse with a sorrow no one else could witness. "Why won't you answer…"
Lucien shut his eyes.The pain he had tried to suppress now throbbed like an old bullet embedded deep in flesh.
Slowly, he turned away from the cityscape and stepped back inside his apartment — lavish, but achingly silent. He took off his jacket and walked towards the bathroom.
His fingers moved slowly, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one, as though shedding layers of a weight that had clung too tightly to his chest.
Warm water began to fill the antique bathtub — a colonial-era relic he had restored himself.It was the only place where he could sink, undisturbed, without appearing weak.
Lucien immersed himself in the silence, only his eyes exposed above the surface.The ceiling light flickered softly.But in his mind — there was only her.
He remembered the night they first met.Her sarcastic smile.The blood smeared across her lips after slaying her first enemy.And her final words...
"If I die... don't come looking for me. But if I live... I'll come back to find you."
Lucien clenched his jaw tighter.The water around him rippled faintly — his body trembling from emotions he had long buried.
"I once promised myself I'd never fall in love with an El'Raez."
An hour slipped by.He emerged from the bath, towelled off briefly, and went to a small drawer beneath the bookshelf.
Inside — a compact pistol, several micro SIM chips, and a nearly empty bottle of aged whisky.All were neatly arranged like fragments of a life he refused to forget.
He grabbed his wallet and car keys.His hands were still shaking.
His footsteps quickened — fuelled by a mixture of desperation and fury.He knew it clearly now: remaining still would slowly kill him.His heart was in disarray.His mind, no longer capable of waiting.
The engine of his black Mustang growled beneath the storm-grey Madrid sky.Without glancing back, he drove off from the courtyard of Torre de Madrid.
Tonight, he wasn't just chasing answers.He was chasing Fathya — even if it meant tearing through hell to reach her.
Pub La Esquina Roja — 12:40 AM
Lucien entered the small bar tucked away in a hidden corner of Malasaña.The place was dim, with exposed brick walls, and the soft notes of old jazz played in the background.
In the far-right corner, a man in a leather jacket was speaking to the bartender — his long-time informant, known only by the alias: Valas.
Lucien approached wordlessly.
"Valas," he said tersely, placing two photographs and a USB stick on the table.
Valas raised an eyebrow."She's still alive?"
Lucien didn't respond.He simply stared at the man, gaze sharp — as if to say: I need facts. Not riddles.
Valas exhaled slowly."There've been whispers from the Balkans. The Council is on the move. But not for you."He paused."They're searching for something far older than any known kingdom…"
Lucien leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the wooden table.
"The Vault?" he asked, calm but firm.
Valas said nothing.But his silence was confirmation enough.
Lucien took a swig of his drink — whisky, neat.His heart had gone cold, but his purpose burned bright.
"I need the full list.Who in the Council is involved.Who turned traitor.And who's willing to die to protect the Vault."
Valas chuckled faintly, the sound lost among clinking glasses and the melancholy piano tune."For her, isn't it?"
Lucien didn't smile. Didn't nod.But his eyes —They were ablaze with a fire long suppressed.
Back at the Apartment — 4:25 AM
Lucien shut the door with his elbow, his shoulders damp from the drizzle that had started again since he left the pub earlier.This time, he didn't head for the balcony. Nor the bedroom.
He walked straight to the hidden basement — a room only he and Raezmir knew existed.
The metal door welcomed him with a low electronic hum, opening slowly after both his fingerprint and retinal scan were verified.
Blue lights from multiple screens came to life all at once.The room was cold, filled with world maps, file racks labelled in codes, and cables crisscrossing like the nervous system of information.
Lucien plugged in the USB he had received from his contact earlier.In seconds, a stream of data flooded the monitors.
Faces.Last known locations.Codenames.Satellite links.
But he was only searching for one.
And finally — right at the centre of the main screen — La Reyna's face appeared.
CCTV footage from two days ago.Istanbul.Eminönü.Black hat.Brisk steps.Eyes sharp.
Lucien froze for a few seconds, his chest trembling.Then he smiled — but it wasn't a smile of relief.It was a smile laced with bitterness, worry, and fury.
"She's still alive," he whispered softly, as if reassuring himself.
But his eyes never left the screen."For how long?"
His fingers moved, typing in a fresh command, opening a file labelled Project Valkyrie.
If the Council thought they could touch La Reyna without consequence...…they had made a grave mistake.
Istanbul, Turkey — Inside the Vault
La Reyna's footsteps echoed through the dark chamber that had just opened.
A soft red glow emanated from the middle doorway, gently illuminating the engraved walls.Each symbol seemed to come alive, shifting ever so slightly, as if drawing in the remnants of emotion from deep within her chest.
Ahead of her, the space began to change.The walls slowly rotated, forming a new corridor — a passage that only revealed itself when someone was willing to bleed.
She walked forward, her body weary, but her heart even heavier.
Each step felt like retracing old memories.
Suddenly, one of the carvings on the wall lit up — a depiction of a long-haired woman shielding a child.La Reyna's eyes welled up."Mother…"
She approached the carving.Her hand reached out to touch the warm stone, as though a heartbeat still pulsed behind the sculpture.
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind:"This Vault holds not just secrets… but also pain."
La Reyna took a deep breath and continued walking.
The space finally opened into a circular hall — surrounded by blue torches burning smokeless flames.At the centre, a single object floated — a dark red crystal, shaped like a human heart.
But before she could step closer — the shadows shifted again.
A voice rang out, echoing through the chamber:
"This is not the end, Fathya El'Raez.This is only the first door."
La Reyna looked up.Her hand curled into a tight fist.Her eyes no longer searched merely for truth.
Now they demanded answers:Who was she, really…And why did her blood keep calling her back?