The city burned behind him.

Lucian stood at the edge of the rooftop, cigarette between his fingers, watching the chaos unfold below. Sirens wailed, distant shouts echoed through the streets, but none of it concerned him. They were looking for him.

They wouldn’t find him.

Not in the warehouse reduced to embers, not in the alleys slick with blood. He exhaled smoke, watching it curl into the night before flicking the cigarette away. The glow of the ember vanished before it hit the pavement. A fitting metaphor.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown: You didn’t have to go that far.

Lucian smirked. Oh, but he did. The Antonelli family had grown bold, stepping where they didn’t belong. Tonight was his answer. Their operations? Burned. Their leader? Missing a tongue.

He typed a slow response.

Lucian: I don’t do half-measures.

Sliding into his car, fingers tapped against the wheel as his mind moved ahead. Who would retaliate? Who would submit?

Then, her.

A face flashed in his mind—sharp eyes, teasing lips, defiance in every movement. He clenched his jaw, pushing the thought aside. He didn’t have time for distractions.

But something about her lingered.

With a low chuckle, he shifted into gear, tires screeching against pavement.

If she was smart, she’d stay out of his way.

If not…

Lucian always enjoyed a chase.