Chapter 152
"Ms. Windsor, what is that supposed to mean? You don't know what kind of relationship the Aiden family has with us, with Nightfall? Henry ended up crippled because you told us to do it! And now you're letting David in, and he's bringing more than twenty men with him—how is that not inviting a wolf straight into the house?"
In the conference room, a middle‑aged man with a brutal, heavy face slammed his palm on the table as he shot to his feet. His name was Panther, one of the old guard of Nightfall, one of the guys who had built everything from the ground up with Viper.
"Exactly!" Another thin man chimed in, also one of Viper's original crew. "Since when did Nightfall become a junkyard? Any random nobody thinks he can walk right in now?"
"Ms. Windsor, you're young, you don't know better, we get that. We're not blaming you for that. But you don't get to make this call all by yourself."
"That's right! You don't get to decide this alone!"
The conference room dissolved into chaos. Seven or eight men were talking at once, voices overlapping in angry protest. They were all Viper's old subordinates, the most stubborn, most xenophobic faction inside Nightfall.
Elizabeth sat at the head of the table, listening quietly as they yelled.
Only when they had just about worn themselves out did she finally speak, her voice unhurried, "Are you finished?"
The conference room went silent for a beat.
Panther jutted out his neck, refusing to back down, "Yeah, we're finished! Ms. Windsor, give us an explanation!"
Elizabeth looked at him, her gaze flat and lifeless, like a still pond with no ripples.
"My explanation is—" She rose to her feet, letting her gaze sweep over the seven or eight men, and said, enunciating each word, "You're fired."
The room exploded.
"What?!"
"Who do you think you are?!"
"I've worked for Nightfall for twenty years, and you think you can just fire me like that?!"
Panther was even more furious, practically roaring. "Elizabeth! Are you out of your mind?! Who the hell do you think you are?!"
Elizabeth looked at him, the corner of her mouth curling in the faintest hint of a smile. "I'm the leader of Nightfall. What I say goes."
She lifted her hand and gave a small wave.
The conference room doors swung open. Lynx rushed in with more than a dozen people at his back, each of them holding a gun, the dark barrels all trained on Panther and his men.
Panther's face changed completely.
Elizabeth walked over to him, stopping in front of him so that she was looking down at him from above.
"Panther, you think I don't know what you've been doing all these years? You think I don't know you're Viper's man? You think I don't know there's someone backing you from behind the scenes?"
Panther's pupils constricted sharply. "You… how did you…"
Elizabeth didn't answer.
She only kept her eyes on him, her voice ice‑cold as she said, word by word, "Get out of Nightfall. Take your people and leave. From now on, if I ever see you on Nightfall turf again—"
She paused, and when she spoke again, her tone was as cold as a knife pressed to the skin. "You die."
The color drained from Panther's face altogether.
His mouth opened and closed, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
All he could do was gather his men and slink out, humiliated.
Silence settled over the conference room.
David had been standing quietly in a corner the whole time, watching everything unfold, his expression tangled and hard to read.
He walked over to Elizabeth's side and lowered his voice. "Ms. Windsor, you've just made enemies of all of them."
Elizabeth glanced at him, her tone mild. "I know."
"They're going to retaliate."
"I know."
David fell silent.
He studied Elizabeth, unsure whether she was being incredibly smart or incredibly reckless.
The retaliation came faster than anyone expected.
Three days later, Elizabeth's motorcade was ambushed downtown.
The attackers came in large numbers, with heavy firepower, clearly well‑prepared. If Nightfall's security team hadn't fought back with everything they had, Elizabeth might easily have died on the spot.
Five days later, one of Nightfall's secret warehouses was set on fire, the losses devastating.
A week after that, a sniper targeted Elizabeth right at the gate of Smith Manor. If Lynx hadn't reacted in time, knocking her to the ground, the bullet that skimmed past her scalp would have gone straight through her head.
For those few days, panic churned inside Nightfall. The people who had been fired banded together and formed an organization they called the Avengers League, dedicated exclusively to retaliating against Nightfall and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was running herself ragged.
She had to deal with their attacks, calm the fear spreading inside Nightfall, push forward the implementation of that business plan, and handle all the fallout from the Charles incident.
She barely had time to sleep, much less think about anything else.
That night, when Jacob pushed open the bedroom door, he saw Elizabeth sitting by the window, a document in her hand, though her eyes were fixed blankly on the darkness outside.
The exhaustion and agitation on her face were something he had never seen before.
He walked over and sat down beside her. "Elizabeth."
Elizabeth snapped back to herself and glanced at him, forcing a smile. "You're back."
Jacob studied her, a faint frown forming between his brows. "What are you doing?"
Elizabeth blinked. "What?"
"I'm asking what you've been doing lately." Jacob's voice was low, but there was a thread of worry in it that he couldn't quite hide. "You've been so busy you haven't eaten properly, haven't slept properly for days. What's going on with Nightfall?"
Elizabeth was silent for a moment.
She knew she couldn't hide it from him.
"I'm cleaning up Nightfall," she said, her voice a little hoarse. "Getting rid of the dirty people. Scrubbing off the things we can't drag into the light."
Jacob looked at her, his eyes complicated.
"And then?"
"And then…" Elizabeth paused. "Then I'll turn Nightfall into a normal organization. No more living on the edge of a knife. No more making our people live every day with their hearts in their throats."
Jacob said nothing.
After a long moment, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
"Elizabeth," he murmured, his voice warm, wrapping around her like a banked fire, "you're exhausted."
Elizabeth leaned against his chest and closed her eyes, saying nothing.
She was exhausted—so tired she could barely keep going.
But she didn't dare stop.
Because the moment she stopped, all those blood debts, all those truths, all those enemies crouching in the dark would surge up like a tide and drown her.
"Elizabeth," Jacob's voice sounded above her head, "just put it all down for a while, okay?"
Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked up at him.
Jacob lowered his head to meet her gaze. In those dark, deep eyes of his, there was nothing but worry and a tenderness that made it hard to breathe.
"Let's have the wedding," he said.
Elizabeth froze.
"A wedding?"
"Yeah." Jacob tightened his grip on her hand. "We should've done it a long time ago. There was always something going on, and we kept putting it off. Now Charles is down, the Aiden family is finished, and all that messy crap should finally be wrapping up. Let's have the wedding."
Elizabeth parted her lips, ready to say something, but he cut her off.
"Elizabeth," his voice dropped, turning soft and husky, with a plea in it she had never heard before, "I want to be with you. Not half in, half out, each of us hiding our own secrets. I want to really be with you. No matter what's going on outside, no matter what you're hiding, I still want to be with you."
He looked at her, eyes full of sincerity. "Let's just have the wedding first, okay?"