[Fshback: One Week Ago]

  Silver Sable paced through her penthouse office, a stark trast of moderal and stone in the heart of Symkaria. The air was thick with tension, one of the few moments where eveeely resolve seemed tested. Her memory returo a name she hadn't spoken in years, a persohought dead—a ghost she had buried along with her mistakes.

  The Fner. Her former husband. The man she'd loved, betrayed, and ultimately e to fear.

  Ohey had been inseparable, partners in ambition and in a brutal, unapologetic love. He was charming, devious, and had a killer's instinct that rivaled her own. In their early days, they were a perfect match—both leaders of their respective empires, both deadly in their ht. But that shared darkness proved to be their undoing, turning their love into a twisted game of betrayal and survival.

  She thought he was gone, buried along with the bitterhat defihe st chapter of their retionship. Yet, whispers had started reag her—a few stolen glimpses, a scattering of reports, and his name resurfag i shouldn't. And then she received the letter—a bold, handwritten hat could have e from only one man.

  "Surprised to see my name again? I have to say, you made a remarkable mistake in uimating me, Silver. Let's see if you're still as clever as you used to be. sider this a challenge—you know how I adore ames."

  A familiar mix of fury and thrill rushed through her veins. She had spent years burying the memories of their votile, intoxig retionship, the nights filled with equal parts passion and flict, the eborate schemes that tested their loyalty and ruthlessness. And now, this message—an invitation, a threat, and a reminder of their deadly dance.

  For the first time in years, Silver knew she was being hunted. But she'd be damned if she'd let herself be prey.

  Silver remembered the day she met him—she was young, fearless, and just starting to rise in the underground world. The Fner was unlike anyone she had ever met. Charismatic, impossibly smart, and disarmingly ho about his lethal ambition, he swept her into a whirlwind of power and manipution. Together, they were unstoppable.

  But as their empire grew, so did his hunger—for power, for trol, aually for her downfall.

  In hindsight, she could see the signs, subtle at first. His eyes would linger a sed too long when her guard was down. He would ask questions that seemed too probing, too ied in her syndicate's security protocols, her alliances, and her finances. Love had blinded her to his ing; it wasn't until she discovered his affair—a calcuted liaison with one of her trusted allies—that she fully grasped his betrayal. The Fner wasn't just trying to cim her heart. He was trying to seize her empire.

  Silver felt the sting of his deceptio she never let him see her pain. Instead, she sought revenge. Quietly, methodically, she tore through his works, dismantling parts of his operation one piece at a time. She used her owo stage "acts," letting him believe his enemies were responsible. For months, he never k was her behind the attacks.

  Then came his ultimate betrayal: an attempt on her life. Through a third party, he'd hired an assassin to eliminate her, believing she'd race it ba. But Silver was no fool. Wheack failed, she followed the breadcrumbs straight to him.

  Their frontation was legendary. In a private room, with only the cold light of a single swinging mp casting shadows betweehey both id out their cards. She fronted him with the evidence of his attempt on her life; he met her accusations with a chilling smile, admitting it all.

  "You're too valuable to destroy," he had said in his cold, calg voice. "But only if you're dead, Silver. If you're alive, you're a threat. And I'm not oo leave threats unchecked. But for our old times' sake, let's go our separate ways and try to kill each other oh of us reach the top. I'll be waiting for you there."

  That was the end. They divorced, but their war never ended. For years, they lived in a twisted game of cat-and-mouse, taking turns at the role of predator and prey. Assassination attempts became almost routine, a macabre way of maintaining the e they once shared. Each failed attempt was almost a message, a remihat while they no longer shared their lives, they could still end each other's.

  Then one day, news came of his death. A calcuted hit, she was told, by one of his enemies. She did her own researd saw his body with her own eyes and thhly checked, just to be sure. And that was the end of the Fner.

  Or so she thought.

  [Present Day]

  With the message from the Fner, Silver knew he had returned with a purpose. He had survived, defied death, and had e back for her. Yet, as much as she hated to admit it, there was something exhirating about fag him again. He was the only person who had ever matched her, an adversary who uood her every tactid every thought. He had studied her, predicted her moves before, and she knew he would do so again.

  But this time, she repared.

  For the past week, she had heightened security around her syndicate, posted guards around her known allies, a underground, knowing full well that he'd expect her to do just that. Each time she moved, she left clues—small breadcrumbs desigo lead him into traps. But he was careful, slippery, and far more strategic than before. He was evolving, ging his methods with each failed enter.

  It became a dance, a dark waltz of evasion and attack. Every attempt he made to draw her out was met with deadly termeasures. She left false trails, riddled with explosives and ambushes, but he ook the bait, always finding ways to slip out just before she could nd the fatal blow.

  She had to admit: he ying this game perfectly. And with each evasion, each close call, the tension mounted.

  Finally, the showdown came. A week of near-misses and eborate schemes led to this moment. She had orchestrated a final trap, one she was sure he wouldn't resist.

  The location: a deserted warehouse on the edge of Symkaria. It was a familiar pce, one she knew would hold significe for him. It was the site of one of their earliest joint missions, the pce where they first saw each other's ruthless, urained side—a mission that had bound them together in blood arayal.

  Standing alone in the dark, she awaited his arrival, fingers steady on her on, her senses heightehe sileretched, each sed feeling like ay, and then, she heard it—a single footstep eg in the vast emptiness. She turned, heart rag as his figure emerged from the shadows.

  There he was, unged yet altered, a ghost returned with a colder, sharper edge.

  "Did you miss me, Silver?" His voice was smooth, deceptively warm, as if this was just another meetiween old friends.

  "I should have killed you with my own hands. That fake body... You improvised. Well, time to die," she replied with an arrogant smirk.

  He ughed, a low, mog sound that filled the warehouse. "Oh, we both know you wouldn't have had it any other way. Where's the fun in a break? You loved the game as much as I did."

  She raised her on, pointing it squarely at his heart. "Enough games, fucker. Why did you e back?"

  "I think you know why." He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with that all-too-familiar glint. "You may have wao kill me, Silver, but part of you misses me. You miss having someone who uands, who keep up with you. But after your st slip up at New York, I'm starting to think, yetting rusty, so, here I am..."

  Silver's jaw ched. There art of her that hated hht he was, a sliver of truth buried in the dark thrill of their rivalry. He was the only person who had ever challenged her, forced her to be her most ruthless, her most ing.

  But this was no longer about the past, no longer about rekindling some twisted sense of love. She raised her on, her fieady origger.

  "I don't need you anymore, Fner. Whatever you came back for, it ends here."

  His smile vanished, repced by a cold, calg look. "If that's what you believe, the's see if you have what it takes to finish it."

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