Lyssandro's dark eyes gleamed with renewed ing, his sharp ears twitg faintly as he gauged her enthusiasm. “There is a rival,” he began, his voice low and deliberate, as though speaking of them aloud might jure their presence. “A mert—Anton Drevaris—whose dealings have bee... problematiy enterprise. He’s encroag oory that doesn’t belong to him, musg in where he’s her wanted nor invited.”

  Vivienne leaned back slightly, crossing her legs, her gaze fixed on him with feigned boredom. “A turf war? How quaint,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “Isn’t that something your hired thugs could handle?”

  Lyssandro’s smile didn’t waver, but his fingers drummed lightly against the table. “If brute force were the solution, it would have been done already. Drevaris has made himself untouchable, surrounded by guards and barricades wherever he goes. But more importantly, he holds leverage—dots, names, and records—things that could do siderable damage if revealed to the wrong parties.” He paused, his voice dropping lower. “Things that could implicate me.”

  Vivienne’s griurned, sharp and calg. “Ah, now we’re getting to the heart of it. So, you wao infiltrate, eliminate, or both?”

  Lyssandro’s gaze sharpened, his voice soft but edged with steel. “I need you to retrieve those dots aroy his ability to interfere with my operations. How you choose to aplish this is entirely up to you, but Drevaris ot remain a threat.”

  Vivieapped a finger against her lips, her expression ptive. “A little bckmail retrieval, some creative destru... Sounds straightforward enough. And if I succeed?”

  “Then you will have my trust,” Lyssandro replied, his voice steady. “And more importantly, my resources.”

  Vivienne rose from her seat with an effortless grace, her dark eyes gleaming with a fidehat bordered oory. “sider it done,” she said, her tone smooth as silk, u with a dangerous edge. She turo leave, pausing at the doorway to gnce over her shoulder, a wicked smile pying on her lips. “I’ll make sure your little problem is dealt with... thhly.”

  As the door clicked shut behihe tension in the room released like a taut b. Whispers broke out among the patrons, their earlier bravado now repced with hushed awe and lingering fear. Lyssandro leaned ba his chair, swirling the wine in his gss thoughtfully. A flicker of unease crossed his face, but it quickly vanished behind his usual posed mask.

  Vivienne desded from Lyssandro's private quarters with the same anding presence. She navigated the club’s dimly lit halls with ease, her memuiding her back to the main floor.

  The atmosphere below was a stark trast to the calcuted menace she had left upstairs. Music pulsed through the air, mingling with the hum of chatter and the occasional burst of ughter. The patrons were blissfully unaware of the darker dealings that occurred above their heads, ed up in their own revelry.

  Vivienne’s entra through the crowd like a khe shift in energy was immediate—eyes darting to her, versations faltering, and a few patrons quickly stepping aside to avoid her gaze. She ighe stares, her focus honing in on her silent paniohe far end of the room.

  Renzia remaily where Vivienne had left her, a haunting figure amidst the swirling chaos of the club. Her mannequin form was a stark trast to the living, breathing patrons around her, a she had drawn quite the audience. A small crowd had gathered, whispering among themselves and daring one ao get closer.

  “Renzia, sweetheart,” Vivienne called, her voice cutting through the h a anding crity. “We’re leaving.”

  The mannequin’s head twisted unnaturally to face Viviehe movement sudden and jarring. Her wooden frame cracked audibly as she began to shift, her joints creaking with a lifelike fluidity that sent the onlookers scrambling backward in shock. The crowd parted like water as Renzia fell in line behind Vivienne, her t, stitched form as eerie as ever.

  Vivienne smirked faintly at their reas, her gaze never wavering as she made her way toward the exit. The bouncers stationed he doors exged uain gheir fusion evident. Yet they didn’t dare question her or her unnerving panion. Without breaking stride, Vivienne pushed open the heavy doors, stepping into the cool air.

  The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays casting long shadows across the cobbled streets of Serkoth. The city was alive with the hum of erce, the occasional shout of a street vendor, and the rhythmic ctter of hooves against stone. Vivierode with purpose through the bustling thhfares, ign the world arouhe weight of her enter with Lyssandro lingered in her mind, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she repyed the se.

  Renzia followed behind, her unnervingly smooth gait drawing wary gnces from passersby. Though the mannequin garares, no one dared to speak, the iy of Vivienne’s preseing as an unspokeerrent.

  The Serkoth hall loomed ahead, a bastion of power and traditioled within the heart of the city. Sunlight glinted off its iron gates, casting intricate patterns on the ground. As Vivienne approached, the guards at the entraraighteheir hands resting on the pommels of their swords. One of them gave her a stiff nod before opening the gate without question.

  She asded the stoeps with effortless grace, the heavy oak doors of the hall groaning slightly as they swung open. The interior was cool and dim, the faint st of aged wood and part hanging in the air. The murmurs of activity echoed faintly through the corridors as Vivienne made her way toward Narek’s office, her movements purposeful.

  Pushing open the slightly ajar door, Vivieepped io find Narek seated at his desk. The room was awash with the warm glow of te-afternoon sunlight filtering through the tall windows. Stacks of part and ledgers were spread across the polished surface, evidence of the Serkoth family’s extensive operations.

  Narek gnced up, his sharp features unreadable as he regarded her. “You’ve returned,” he said, his toral but expet. “I trust your time with Lyssandro was... eventful?”

  Vivienne closed the door behind her and took a few steps forward, her dark eyes gleaming. “Eventful and productive,” she replied. “I’ve established myself as someone worth Lyssandro’s attention. He believes I be useful to him—and to prove it, he’s set a test.”

  Narek’s brow furrowed slightly as he leaned ba his chair, his long fingers steepled before him. “A test?”

  Vivienne nodded, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Drevaris. He wants me to deal with him. The mert’s been musg in on Lyssandro’s operations, and it seems Lyssandro has grown tired of him.”

  At the mention of Drevaris, Narek’s expression darkened, his gaze turning pensive. He tapped his fingers against the desk, his eyes narrowing as he sidered her words.

  “Drevaris,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The man’s ambition has been growing unchecked for too long. He’s been nibbling at the edges of Serkoth territory as well, though I had hoped to use him as leverage against some of our petitors. Still, his overreach has bee problematic.”

  Vivieilted her head slightly, watg him closely. “It seems Lyssandro and the Serkoth family have overpping is in this case.”

  Narek’s sharp gaze flicked back to her, his expression calg. After a moment, he gave a curt nod. “You have my approval. Handle Drevaris however you see fit, but e’s decisive. If Lyssandro is , we ot afford any missteps.”

  Vivienne’s smile widened, a glint of satisfa in her eyes. “sider it done. By the time I’m through, Drevaris will be little more than a memory.”

  old her the location of his home and his warehouses, theurned his attention to the papers before him, though his voice remained firm. “Good. Report back when it’s done. And, Vivienne—ehere are no loose ends.”

  “Always,” she said smoothly, turning on her heel. Renzia followed silently as they left the office, the mannequin’s movements as fluid as ever.

  Vivienne moved through the halls of the Serkoth estate with a sense of purpose, though the stillness of the evening and the weight of her task weighed heavily ohe sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the ornate corridors as the st rays of light disappeared behind the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before night fully settled in, and she would have the cover she o proceed with the phase of her pn.

  She paused by a rge window, gazing out at the city as it shifted from the vibrancy of day to the quiet, uling calm of night. The streets would be darker now, the shadows deeper, perfect for the kind of work she was about to uake. But, for now, she would wait.

  Renzia, ever the silent panion, stood just behind her, unmoving as always. The mannequin’s stillness was uling in its ht, but Vivienne had grown aced to the odd presence over the past few hours. It was strange, yet there was a certain reliability to the girl, even if her past—and Vivienne’s role in it—remained a mystery.

  Vivienne could feel the subtle shift of the air as the st traces of daylight faded. It was time. Her pn was set in motion, and there was n baow.

  She turo Renzia, who had been waiting patiently in the background. “We’re leaving soon,” Vivienne said, her voice low but purposeful. “Make sure you're ready.”

  Renzia’s response was almost immediate, a slight movement of her head indig aowledgement. There was no need for words; the mannequin was ever vigint, alrepared.

  By the time the moon began to rise, the estate was silent, and the streets outside were cloaked in shadow. Vivienne could feel the pull of the night, the power it offered, and the shadow it cast over the city. She crossed the room to collect her cloak, the dark fabric flowing behind her as she approached the door.

  “We have work to do,” she said quietly to Renzia, who had already begun to follow her. The mannequin’s movements were as fluid as always, almost ethereal in the dim light, and Vivienne couldn’t help but wonder about the strange bond f between them.

  Together, they left the estate, the doors closing silently behind them as they stepped into the cool night air. The city seemed more alive in the dark, the distant hum of the underworld pressing against the silence.

  Viviehoughts sharpened like a bde as she strode through the quiet streets, the cool night air coiling around her bare feet and flowing dress. The city hummed softly in the distas subdued rhythm more inviting uhe cover of darkness. Tonight, she would prove her value to Lyssandro, assert her presen this delicate web of power and intrigue. The pn was clear, the path ahead set—but her instincts ed with the endless hunger she carried.

  Her focus wavered briefly as her tongue flicked out, tasting the air for the faint tang of aether. The city teemed with it, thin wisps of tent fear and uhat hung over the streets like a fine mist. She felt her hunger rise, gnawing at her resolve. Rava had permitted her to indulge, so long as she kept herself in check. A test of discipline as much as one of strategy. Feeding didn’t require death—not always. A siphon here, a brush of terror there, and she could satisfy the edge of her hunger without leaving a trail.

  But it wasn’t the same. Feeding without killing was like sipping thin soup—nourishing in the barest sense, a y rather than a pleasure. True satisfa came from something far richer, more det: dev aether-rich flesh, sav the depth and plexity like a full-bodied stew paired with fragrant rice. The thought alone was intoxig, and for a moment, Vivienne indulged in the fantasy. Perhaps her target tonight could bee a stew?

  The idea coaxed a low, dark chuckle from her lips, ohat lingered iillness of the night. Eating people—now, that was a strahought. Her long, wicked cws flexed as if in agreement, and she pohe distance she had e from humanity. Did she resent it? No, irely. But she didn’t relish it either. The power, the freedom it afforded her, was intoxig in its ht. Yet it came with a gnawing huhat ruly left her.

  Still, the thought wouldn’t leave her mind. Perhaps she could justify it, someday. The truly vile ohe predators, the wicked—might be acceptable. Or maybe she could make a sport of it on the front lines, should her prow enough to be useful in war. None of the s would pin if she fed on their enemies, right? She could imagihe battlefield, chaos unfolding around her as she stalked through the age, feasting on fear and flesh alike.

  For now, though, she had to keep herself in check. Tonight wasn’t about indulge was about proving herself, making a statement without drawing too much attention.

  She g Renzia, who followed closely and silently at her side, her presence a steadying for Vivieumultuous thoughts. "Let's make this quick," she murmured, mostly to herself. "And... ."

  Renzia tilted her head, the faint crackle of her joints the only sound as she shifted her posture. Her ste emerged from her sleeve, the word ? scrawled in precise, loopiers.

  Vivienne smirked, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. " enough," she crified. "Let's not make a stew out of this one, hm?"

  Renzia gave a slow, deliberate nod, though it was unclear if she uood the humor or was merely aowledging the and.

  Vivienne’s grin widened. "Good girl."

  The mert's estate came into view, its shadowed silhouette looming against the starry sky. Lights glimmered faintly through the windows, and the faint murmur of guards’ voices carried on the night breeze. The st of aether was faint but present—a thread of potential feeding into her hunger.

  "Let’s get to work," Vivienne whispered, her voice low and sharp, like the edge of a bde.

  The shadows g to Vivienne like an old friend, her bare feet making no sound as she moved across the cobblestones and into the cover of the mert's estate walls. The night was thick with stillness, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees and the muted voices of guards statio various posts. Vivienne flicked her to, tasting the air—aether faint but present, mingling with the unease of those stationed within.

  Renzia followed her lead without hesitation, her movements eerily fluid and silee her wooden frame. The mannequin g to the darker recesses of the path, her glowing, stitch-like seams barely visible in the dim light.

  The estate was modest for a mert of Drevaris's ambitions, but well-secured. High walls surrouhe tral house, and the faint glow of nterns revealed several patrolling guards. Vivienne ted their movements, noting their rotations and the brief windows when they were obscured from one another’s view.

  “This way,” she whispered to Renzia, motioning toward the er of the estate where a small garden sat in bloom, its hedges tall enough to provide cover.

  Once cealed, Vivienne crouched low, her sharp eyes sing the guards he house. The entry points were limited—windows barred with wrought iron and a heavy wooden door fnked by two sentries. Her mind raced through possibilities.

  The batrance might offer less resistance. Vivienne poio it, and Renzia tilted her head in uanding. Together, they moved with the grace of predators, slipping past the light and sound of the patrols until they reached the rear of the estate.

  Here, a kit door stood ajar, likely left so by servants needing fresh air in the warm evening. Vivienne allowed herself a small smile at their carelessness. She pressed her ear to the crack, listening fns of life within. The sound of cttering dishes and low versation drifted out—servants busying themselves in preparation for the m.

  She slipped inside, her movement seamless and unnoticed. Renzia followed, her presence like a shadow, barely registering to the oblivious staff. They moved deeper into the house, keeping to the edges of the rooms and listening carefully to every voice they passed.

  Vivienne’s sharp senses led her to the heart of the estate—a study on the sed floor, faint light spilling through the crader the door. She pressed her hand against it, leaning in just enough to hear.

  Iwo voices carried on a heated versation. One was unfamiliar— though with the way he eaking, it was likely Drevaris himself—while the other beloo a nervous subordinate.

  “They’ll e for me eventually, you know that!” the mert spat. “I’ve muscled in too far for the s to ig’s only a matter of time before they send someone like Lyssandro.”

  The subordinate hesitated. “Then... maybe it’s time to pull back, sir? solidate what we have?”

  Drevaris let out a sharp ugh. “You think that will stop them? No. I’ll show them I’m not to be trifled with. Increase the shipments to the western district, and make sure we have reinforts ready. If Lyssandro or his ckeys think they intimidate me, they’ll regret it.”

  Vivienne’s lips curled into a wicked smile. This was better than she’d hoped. He was clearly aware of Lyssandro’s presend already preparing for frontation.

  She gestured to Renzia, signalio stay close as she slipped away from the door and into another shadowed hallway. More information might solidify her approach. Drevaris’s tone hi arrogance, and arrogance could be exploited.

  The thought of using her charms to extract more details flitted through her mind. Her plump, curvaceous form and the predatory allure she exuded could easily lower his defenses. But for now, she o find his quarters and ensure she had every angle of his operation mapped out.

  Vivienne moved silently, her senses sharpened as she asded to the third floor of the estate. The mert’s private quarters would undoubtedly hold the most valuable informatioers, ledgers, or artifacts that might firm his dealings and ambitions.

  Renzia followed close behind, her fluid, almost ghostly movements ensuring she made no sound. The two reached a rge oak door at the end of the hallway, faintly illuminated by the flickering glow of a searby. Vivienne ran her fingers lightly over the handle, noting its intricate design—a symbol of wealth, though perhaps not wisdom.

  She he door open slowly, the faint creak masked by the distant ctter of the kit staff below. The room beyond acious but cluttered, a stark trast to the calcuted demeanor Drevaris dispyed. Papers and books were strewn across the desk, while shelves lined with ledgers and curios dominated one wall. A small firepce crackled faintly in the er, its warmth giving the space a deceptively inviting feel.

  Vivieepped inside, her bare feet silent against the plush carpet. Her sharp eyes sed the room, drawn first to the desk where an open ledger y. She skimmed its tents, her gaze narrowing as she took in the figures.

  Drevaris wasn’t just expanding his trade; he was overextending himself, leveraging dangerous loans and relying on shipments that hadn’t yet arrived. A single disruption could topple his fragile operation.

  Her smile widened. Lyssandro will find this very useful.

  “Keep watch,” she murmured to Renzia, who stationed herself by the door, her movements seamless and meical.

  Vivieurned her attention to the shelves, running her fingers lightly over the spines of the ledgers. One, in particur, caught her eye—a worher-bound volume with the word Private embossed on the front. She plucked it from its pce, flipping through the pages to reveal detailed ats of bribes, illegal trades, and names—plenty of names.

  “Oh, Drevaris,” she whispered, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You’ve been very naughty.”

  She tucked the book into the folds of her dress, careful to leave no sign it had been disturbed. Her search tinued, her predatory instincts leadio a locked drawer in the desk.

  SupernovaSymphony