AnnouGuess what! My back log is atrocious! And by that I mean I am currently in the process of writing chapter 194. So, for the 30 days, I will be posting once a day, up to chapter 105

  The streets seemed to stretch before Vivienne, each step resonating with the weight of her resolve. Her mind sharpehe bustling city fading into the background as she focused solely on her goal. She was no longer just a woman drifting through this world—she was a for motion, and every movement she made was a deliberate step toward the future she would shape.

  Lyssandro’s club loomed ahead, led between the chaotic throngs of the market. A pce of influence, wealth, and hidden agendas. She could almost feel the tension in the air as she neared, her anticipation a steady hum beh her skin. She knew Lyssandro would try to worm his way out of paying her, but his games would only steel her resolve. A man who thought he could dabble with fire would soon realize just how much it could scorch him.

  She would wiher way. If he handed over the , she could tinue doing business with him, so long as his is didn’t flict with the Serkoth family. They’d treated her well, after all, and it was only fitting to extend the same courtesy. But if he thought he could cross her, if he tried to double-cross her in some way, she’d let him. After all, she had little use for a man who was foolish enough to step into her path—and if things turned ugly, well, she had a growing appetite that could always use a new meal.

  As Vivienne he entrance of Lyssandro's club, the familiar sight of the two burly bouncers came into view. Their posture was as imposing as ever, arms crossed and eyes sing the crowd, guarding the door with an almost palpable sense of authority. The same two she’d entered the st time—gruff, no-nonseypes who’d given her no quarter before.

  They exged wary gnces as she approached, their expressions hardening the moment they saw her. They remembered her. One of them grunted, his brow furrowed. “Not so fast, girl. You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here again.”

  Vivienne didn’t flinch, her dark eyes log onto theirs with an air of quiet fidence. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, allowing the sileweeo stretch. She khis routi was all about asserting dominance—who would flinch first.

  One of the bouook a step toward her, sizing her up, but she could see the uainty in his eyes. He didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. She could tell he was on the edge, ready to throw her out at the slightest provocation. But something was different this time.

  She reached into her makeshift toga, her fingers brushing the pouch of hidden there. With a deliberate movement, she pulled it out, the weight of it feeling almost like a promise. “Tell Lysandro,” she said, her voice low but steady, “that I’m here to collect what’s owed. And if he wants to py games again, I'll be happy to make him regret it.”

  The two bouncers exged anhe tensioween them palpable. They were relut, clearly not eager to let her in, but they had seen enough to know she wasn’t the type to back down.

  “Fihe other bouncer muttered, clearly annoyed. “But this better be the st time. Get inside.”

  The first one shot a look at his partner, a deep scowl on his face, but nodded curtly, stepping aside to let her pass. Vivienne gave them a nod of her own, the kind that made it clear she had the upper hand, before stepping past them and into the club. The door smmed shut behind her, cutting off the noise of the street, and she was swallowed by the dim, hazy interior.

  The club was just as she remembered—opule worn, a blend of luxury fading into decay. Velvet curtains hung on the walls, their once rich colors dimmed by years of use, and ornate deliers, though clouded with time, still mao reflect a faint glimmer of their former brilliahe air was thick with the lingering haze of smoke and the low hum of music, blending with the k of gss and muffled ughter. Despite the m light filtering in through cracked shutters, the club was alive with the same chaotiergy, an unyielding tide of revelry that knew no time or restraint.

  Vivienne’s bare feet made soft, purposeful steps across the marble floor as she navigated her way through the crowd. The chill of the stone was a wele trast to the heat of the night before, a reminder of how far she’d e in a single day. She barely noticed the stares or sidelong gnces, her focus fixed solely on the goal ahead: Lyssandro.

  She pushed past groups of idle chatter and drunken gamblers, her eyes narrowing as she approached the stairs leading to the private area. Renzia followed behind her, silent as always, a specter that seemed to melt into the shadows.

  Vivienne’s feet were sure, her steps fident, unhurried. She was no longer just a woman moving through this city; she was a force, and she carried that knowledge with her. She had her objectives and nothing would deter her.

  As she climbed the stairs, the sound of the crowd faded, the oppressive heat of the main floor repced by a stillhat weighed heavy with expectation. At the top, a lone guard stood outside Lyssandro’s office, his posture tense, but his eyes locked onto her bare feet for a moment before meeting her gaze. His hesitation was fleeting, and he quickly stepped aside, a mix of unease and intrigue fshing across his face.

  Vivienne smiled to herself. The city was starting to uand what she was capable of.

  Renzia moved silently behind her as the door to the office creaked open. Ihe room was bathed in a dim, golden light, the walls lined with luxurious tapestries that seemed to catch the flickering shadows of the dles. The air was thick with the st of expensive cigars and rich leather, mingling with the faint, sweet fragrance of perfumes. Lyssandro’s private sanctuary—a pce where power and dece met in a calcuted dispy.

  Vivienne’s gaze immediately nded on him. Lyssandro was lounging behind a rge, ornate desk, his puid, almost feminine. He wore a dress that g to his lithe frame, deep violet fabric that shimmered slightly uhe soft light, its yers expertly desigo atuate his slim yet strong build. The dress aired with delicate ce cuffs that peeked out from his sleeves and a corset that hugged his waist, emphasizing his hss shape. The attire, though undeniably feminine, exuded power and trol. His sharp, angur features were enhanced by bold, dramatic makeup—dark eyelirag the tours of his eyes and high cheekbohe color of his lips a deep crimson. His long, dark hair fell in sleek waves over his shoulders, meticulously styled to perfe.

  As Vivieered, Lyssandro's sharp eyes flicked up to meet hers, the iy of his gaze cutting through the air like a bde. For a moment, there was no sign of surprise, just a cool, calg assessment. His gaze drifted downward—unapologetically, as if stripping her of any sembnce of privacy. His eyes lingered on her bare feet, the simple toga that hung from her body, his lips curling ever so slightly into a knowing smile. He didn’t o speak for her to uand the judgment in his stare, but it didn’t faze her. She had nothing to hide.

  Vivienne’s stance remained fident, unyielding. She wasn’t just a woman in a club anymore; she was someone who atention, someone whose presence alone spoke volumes. She ighe subtle, almost predatory way Lyssandro sized her up. His demeanor—calm, deliberate, too practiced to be anything but—told her everything she o know. He was used to being in trol, to having the upper hand.

  Leaning ba his chair, his fiapped lightly on the armrest, the delicate gs on his fingers catg the light with eaent. The calcuted smile stretched across his lips, a mix of amusement and something darker. He didn’t speak immediately, letting the silence hang in the air betweehe tension thid palpable.

  “Wele back, dy Vivienne.” Lyssandro purred, his voice soft and measured, almost theatrical in its smoothness. There was no hint of disfort, no sign that he was threatened by her presence. In fact, Lyssandro seemed entirely at ease, as though he had been waiting for this moment, pying his part in a well-rehearsed performance. His posture was that of someone who had long been aced to being in trol, to having others bend to his will. Yet, there was a faint sharpness in his eyes—somethih the surface that reized the shift in power.

  Vivienne didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. Instead, she stepped forward, the subtle fiden her movements making her seem as if she owhe room. Her bare feet made no sound on the polished wood floors, but her presence reverberated through the space. Her gaze locked with his, dark eyes gleaming with an almost predatory iy.

  “pleted your little job for you,” she said, her voice low, the words rolling off her tongue like a promise. “Drevaris, those he works alongside, and those he worked for, are no longer around to pete against you.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment, as if the weight of them lingered, settliween them. Lyssandro’s eyes widened in surprise, the ti flicker of shock crossing his face before he quickly regained his posure. It was a fleeting moment, but Vivieiced it. She could always tell when someone had been caught off guard.

  “I see,” he said, his tone smooth once more, but there was a slight edge to it now—something muarded, as if he was reassessing her. “I wasn’t expeg you to be so… thh.”

  There was something almost admiring in his voice, but beh the surface, Vivienne could tell it was tinged with a hint of disbelief. Lyssandro was used to people who were too afraid, too cautious to take the final step. But Vivienne? She was different. She had no qualms about stepping into the darker parts of the world and g what was hers.

  She could see the wheels turning in his mind, the calcution, the weighing of whether he should respect her for her ruthlessness or fear her for it. She leaned in just a fra, her lips curling into a smile that was anything but warm.

  “Don’t mistake me for someone who does things halfway,” she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “When I finish something, I finish it properly.”

  The words huween them like a challenge, a silent uanding that she had done more than just eliminate petition. She had sent a message. Ohat Lyssandro, no matter how poised or powerful, would have to sider. His carefully cultivated image of trol was now shadowed by the reality of the threat she posed.

  He didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, the sileweehied. Then, as if testing her, he allowed a soft chuckle to escape his lips, his fiapping on the edge of the desk in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

  “Impressive,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “But tell me, Vivienne—what is it that you want now? You’ve got my attention, but I’m sure there’s more you’re after.”

  Vivieood tall, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her calm breath. She wasn’t here to py games with him, to dance around the subject. She was here for ohing, and she wouldn’t let anything distract her from it.

  “Payment,” she said simply, her voice low but firm. “The I’m owed.”

  Lyssandro leaned ba his chair, folding his arms across his chest, the sileure one of appraisal. He was still sizing her up, still weighing his options. But this time, the air between them had shifted. There was a ension hangiween them, palpable and thick, as though the rules of their unspoken game had ged. He could sehat Vivienne was no longer someoo be dismissed, someoo be pyed with, as she had beehey first crossed paths. No, she had crossed a line, and Lyssandro k. She had shown him something darker, something far more dangerous than he had anticipated.

  “Very well,” he said, his voice smooth again, but there was an edge to it now, a note ing respect that wasn’t there before. He leaned forward slightly, his fiapping against the desk in a deliberate rhythm. “It’s only fair. After I firm that he was dealt with... unless you have proof that you dealt with him yourself?”

  Vivienne’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. She didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. The power in the room was shifting, and she reveled in it.

  “Proof?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t, but I suppose his half-eaten corpse is somewhere.” She shrugged casually, as if the thought didn’t faze her in the slightest. “I didn’t kill any of his servants, just him. And I suppose Laiken too.”

  Lyssandro’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. “Laiken? Rathik’s hound? What has she got to do with it?”

  Vivienne’s lips curved into a delicate, almost i smile, ohat didn’t match the words she spoke. “I coaxed information out of Drevaris. He told me Laiken was w somewhere, so I found Laiken, interrogated her, then ate her when she’d used up her usefulness.” She sighed tentedly, as though the memory brought her fort. “I’ve eatehese past few days. Maybe I should go back to eatiher beasts for a while so I don’t get sick of people.”

  Lyssandro stared at her, the color draining from his face. He blihe world seeming to tilt around him as he processed her words. His throat tightened, and he swallowed nervously, as if trying to force down the rising uhat bubbled in his chest.

  “I-I see. Of course,” he stammered, his usual posure slipping for the first time since Vivienne had ehe room. His gaze flickered to the side, his mind clearly rag to keep up with the terrifying ease at which she spoke of ing others. A bead of sweat traced its way down his temple, and he quickly turned his attention to the desk, fumbling for something, anything to steady himself.

  With a shake of his head, he grabbed a small iron key from his drawer, his hands slightly unsteady as he unlocked a partment. The soft click of the lock souoo loud in the room, a sharp trast to the thick silehat followed her admission.

  He pulled out a small chest, its surface worn but sturdy, the brass hinges glinting in the low light of the office. Lyssandro muttered something under his breath as he pressed a small, glimmering stoo the chest, eling a burst of aether into it to unlock the meism. The chest clicked open, revealing stacks of bound with twine, and a few well-cut gems scattered ly amongst the bills.

  Vivienne’s eyes flickered over the chest, a momentary fsh of satisfa crossing her face. This was what she came for, but it was more than just the she wahis was a remio Lyssandro—an imprint of the power she now wielded over him. She watched him carefully, noting the way his fingers lingered over the chest as if he were trying to calcute how to navigate this new dynamic between them.

  He pushed the chest toward her, but his hand lingered on it for a moment too long, his eyes flig back to hers, a flicker of hesitatioraying the calm facade he tried to maintain. It was clear to Viviehat Lyssandro was starting to uand the depth of the situation—the game had ged, and he was no lohe oh all the cards. His voice, when it came, was less sure than before, strained with an unfamiliar tension. “This is yours.”

  Vivienne’s grin widened, her dark eyes glinting with something almost predatory. She leaned forward, her bare feet silent on the floor, the chest between them serving as a physical reminder of the new power dynamic at py. “Very good, Lys,” she purred, the sweetness of her voice ced with a cold edge. “I think I’ve taken a liking to you.”

  Her eyes fell to the chest, iing it like a treasure trove, a sly smile pying at the ers of her mouth as she reached in with deliberate care. She grabbed the bound stacks of and, with a soft, practiced motion, plucked one of the pristine blue gems from the chest, turning it in her fingers as if sav the way it caught the dim light. Her hands were delicate as she pced the and the gem in her purse, the soft k of the precious items settling ihe leather pouch louder thaense silehat huween them.

  “This will do me,” Vivienne murmured, her voice almost casual as she ched her purse shut. She leased with her haul, but more so with how Lyssandro’s unease had shifted to a relut admiration. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing her every move, but she wasn’t finished with him yet.

  Lyssandro leaned forward slightly, brows furrowing in fusion, clearly trying to gauge her move. “You aren’t going to take it all?” he asked, his tone skeptical, his gaze shiftiween the remaining stacks of and her. He didn’t uand. She’d taken only a small portio she had the air of someone who could easily cim the rest, and then some.

  Vivie his gaze with an easy, unbothered fidence, her lips curling in that smile that had a way of both f and uling in equal measure. “This was about building trust, my new friend.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, almost intimate murmur as she leaned in, just close enough that he could feel her presence pressing down on him. “I want to build a fruitful retionship between us. So, if you need any more wetwork done...” She paused, her smile turning into something more dangerous, something that sent a ripple of uhrough him. “...well, I’ll be around.”

  There it was again—the underlying threat, ed in the smoothest of velvet. Lyssandro could feel it, a faint tremor in his chest, and the reality of what it meant to cross paths with Vivienne sank in deeper. She wasn’t a parto be pyed with, not a pawn to be trolled. She was someone who could take everything from him in the blink of an eye, and that realization didn’t sit well with him.

  For a moment, he said nothing. He simply watched her, his eyes flig over her bare feet, her simple toga, her delicate, yet dangerous form. She aradox—graceful, yet lethal. And somehow, despite the uling unease she gave him, he couldn’t deny the magic pull she had. The sheer force of her presence was impossible to ignore.

  “Of course,” he said after a beat, his voice still smooth, but with an uone of forced calm. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Vivienne gave him a knowing look, then turned on her heel and walked out of the office with Renzia following silently behihe door clicked softly behind them, leaving Lyssandro alone, his fingers still twitg slightly on the edge of his desk.

  As the two women desded the stairs, the noise of the club’s festivities seemed far away, as though the chaos of the night no longer mattered. Vivienne’s mind was already elsewhere, thoughts spinning forward to the steps in her pns, to the power and influence she could and.

  She had what she needed. And with Lyssandro, she had begun to carve out her p this city. Now, she o dress to impress.

  SupernovaSymphony