Serena's POV
She shrugged, smug. “Still more than you.”
That was it.
I slapped the phone out of her hand.
It hit the marble floor with a sharp crack that echoed through the guest wing like a gunshot in a quiet room.
Natalie barely flinched before I was on her.
My hand closed around her throat.
Not enough to kill.
Enough to remind her what world she was standing in.
We slammed into the bedside table. A glass vial rolled off, hit the floor—
Then shattered.
The smell hit me first.
Gasoline.
My stomach dropped.
“Natalie—what the hell did you do?”
She smiled.
That same calm, sick little smile.
Then she flicked a lighter.
One spark.
That was all it took.
Fire didn’t grow.
It answered.
It burst across the carpet like it had been waiting under the surface the entire time, climbing the curtains, eating the walls, turning the room into a burning cage.
“Stop—!” I coughed, stumbling back as smoke filled my lungs.
Natalie grabbed me, shoving hard. We both hit the floor, scrambling as the fire split us apart like a blade.
Heat bit into my skin instantly.
The air turned sharp. Poisoned.
Somewhere in it, she screamed.
And then I fell.
---
“Serena!”
The voice cut through the chaos.
Nico.
At the doorway.
Black suit, smoke already curling around him, security men behind him trying to hold him back.
“Don’t go in, Don—!”
“Get off me!”
My chest tightened.
For one stupid second, I thought—
He came for me.
I pushed myself up, choking on smoke. “Nico!”
My voice cracked.
“I’m here!”
Natalie’s voice followed immediately behind me, soft, broken, perfectly timed.
“Nico… please…”
And everything in him shifted.
I saw it.
The switch.
He didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t look at me.
Didn’t even search the room.
He ran straight past me.
To her.
---
After that, everything blurred.
Smoke. Heat. Screams. The estate burning like a funeral pyre for something that was already dead long before the fire reached it.
I don’t remember deciding to move.
I just did.
Survival isn’t a choice in this world.
It’s instinct.
Pain hit first—then something deeper.
Not transformation.
Not magic.
Just the body refusing to die when it wasn’t finished yet.
My senses sharpened through the smoke. Every exit. Every draft. Every crack in the structure.
I grabbed my bag with shaking hands and ran.
Glass exploded as I threw myself through the window.
It tore into my side.
I didn’t stop.
I hit the ground hard, rolled once, coughed until my lungs burned raw.
Behind me, the estate roared.
The Don’s house.
The Vescari Syndicate’s pride.
Now just fire and collapsing lies.
I didn’t look back.
I ran through the service path. Through darkness. Through pain that didn’t matter anymore.
Until I found the gate.
Unlocked.
Left open like someone had already decided I didn’t need to be caught.
And I kept going.
Even when my legs gave out.
Even when my breath turned shallow.
I didn’t stop until the estate was gone.
---
The terminal was too quiet.
Like the world didn’t know I was supposed to be dead.
I sat in a corner seat, wrapped in a borrowed coat, blood dried at my side, hands still shaking slightly from adrenaline that hadn’t fully left.
My phone buzzed.
Nico.
Don’t play games, Serena. I don’t have time for hide-and-seek.
I stared at it.
No tears.
No rage.
No heartbreak left to spend.
Just emptiness where everything used to be.
Then I powered the phone off.
And for the first time in nine years—
Nico Vescari didn’t have a signal to reach me.
