Ashley didn’t immediately fall asleep after returning to her room.
She stood beneath the shower, watching the water at her feet turn red.
Some of the dried blood on her skin dissolved beneath the warm water. Some remained tangled in her hair, taking longer to wash away.
Tilting her head back, she let the water cascade over her chest while her fingers combed through her wet hair.
There was a reason they had taken longer to arrive.
Before returning to the rendezvous point, she had gone somewhere else on completely different business.
Yet that wasn’t what lingered in her mind.
Instead, she couldn’t stop replaying her conversation with the priest.
"I guess..." she whispered as she turned off the shower and reached for the towel outside. "...it wasn’t that hard after all."
After speaking with the priest and before pulling the trigger, Ashley had realized something.
What had driven her there wasn’t just anger.
She had thought it was, but it wasn’t.
What Marshal had done to Tommy had simply become the final straw.
Her last straw.
Strangely, she wasn’t overwhelmed by emotion the way she’d expected.
Instead, she felt nothing.
She wasn’t happy.
She wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t satisfied.
She wasn’t even relieved.
Or perhaps she still felt something. Maybe she had simply become too numb or too exhausted to feel anything toward the Di Carpios anymore.
Ashley stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe.
She stopped by the bedside table and picked up her phone.
The first thing she opened was a tracking app she had recently installed.
By "recently," she meant while the others had been reviewing the files she’d prepared for them, she had quietly worked on something else.
Only two trackers were saved in the app.
The first belonged to a tracker she’d hidden inside Primo’s favorite pair of shoes. She had reminded Nolan to make sure Primo wore them whenever possible.
That way, even while she was away at war, she would always know where her son was.
Right now, Primo was still at the hospital.
Ashley smiled faintly in relief.
Her son was safe.
Then her brows furrowed as she checked Lucian’s location. She expected him to still be at the funeral home with Liza.
Instead, he was somewhere else.
"Isn’t this..." She frowned. "...the High Chamber?"
As far as she knew, Lucian wasn’t supposed to make his move until tomorrow.
Not tonight.
"What happened on his side?" she whispered.
*****
Meanwhile, inside Dominion’s High Chamber.
Every door had been shut and locked. Even the windows had been reinforced with additional security locks after what had happened during the previous meeting with Ashley.
A suffocating tension filled the room.
Despite the late hour, every seat around the table was occupied.
Lucian sat at one end, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. His calm gaze swept across the room.
Every face wore the same grim expression.
Eventually, his eyes settled on the opposite end.
Memphis.
The man met Lucian’s gaze with an unapologetic smirk.
Minutes earlier, Lucian had arrived.
To his surprise, everyone had already been there.
He hadn’t announced he was coming.
In fact, he’d only come because of a bad feeling. Only after arriving did he realize that the feeling hadn’t been mere intuition. Because by the time he walked in, the meeting had already begun.
Why?
"My wife spent countless sleepless nights preparing the celebration for a milestone she achieved entirely on her own." Lucian’s voice remained calm. "Without Dominion’s help."
"She worked day and night to keep our legitimate businesses running while sacrificing even more time to prepare that event." His gaze swept across the room. "And on the very night she was supposed to celebrate..."
His voice grew colder. "...someone pointed a gun at her."
Silence filled the room, his calm voice echoing.
"Had she not noticed it in time, she would’ve been the one lying in a hospital bed." He looked toward Memphis. "Be grateful she survived."
Lucian’s eyes darkened.
"But because of that, one of her guests—a very important guest—was shot while shielding me from another attack."
The room remained deathly silent.
Lucian nodded once.
"I did say I respected the High Chamber when I became Dominion’s Don." His eyes slowly narrowed. "I still do. But respect... goes both ways."
His eyelids lowered slightly, though the dangerous glint in his eyes only became more obvious.
At that exact moment, faint gunshots echoed from outside the chamber. The sound was distant and muffled, but unmistakable.
Every head instinctively turned toward the doors.
The gunfire continued relentlessly, and the smell of gunpowder soon drifted into the room.
"I didn’t want the High Chamber involved in this." Lucian finally continued.
His gaze settled on the Head Elder seated directly across from him.
"For one reason. Because your decision tonight...will determine whether the High Chamber continues to exist."
Memphis’s confident smile slowly disappeared.
He looked around the table.
One by one, he found only cold expressions staring back at him.
"I see." The Head Elder nodded. "It seemed you have made your decision."
Without taking his eyes off Lucian, he calmly reached inside his suit.
"Wait —" Memphis froze as he saw a pistol in the Head Elder’s hand.
Then, the latter pointed it directly at Memphis, his eyes still on Lucian.
BANG!

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