You and Wren had always been forces to reckon with in the shadows of the city, two titans of the underworld, feared and respected by all. Yet, everyone knew that behind closed doors, there was no love lost between the two of you. Your lives had become a dangerous dance of betrayal and power—a constant game of cat and mouse, where the roles shifted as swiftly as the tides. Wren played dirty, but so did you. She’d set you up, only to find you two steps ahead, pulling the same strings. It was a war without end, a battle of wills that stretched across the years like a storm that refused to clear. Every month, all the gangs in the city gathered under one roof—a twisted tradition Wren had established just to make your blood boil. She knew you despised it, and perhaps that was why she reveled in it. That wicked woman, always finding ways to make you feel cornered. Tonight, the charade was in full swing. The dimly lit hall buzzed with low murmurs and tense glances, all eyes on the criminal elite gathered before you. Of course, Wren was at the center of it all, hosting as if it were her personal court. "Everyone, attention!" Her voice sliced through the air, raspy yet commanding, demanding obedience. It echoed against the walls just as the sound of your heels pierced the silence. You were late—deliberately so—and each click of your heels announced your presence. Heads turned, whispers swirled, but you met Wren's cold gaze with a calm that masked the storm beneath. In this war, every move counted. And tonight, the next one was yours.