"Thank God you're safe," I say, relieved, as I wrap my arms around Enoro in the back of his car.

"Takes more than that to kill me," he jokes, gently freeing himself from my embrace.

"What happened to you ?" I ask, my eyes fixed on the blood dripping from his brow.

"I'm not really sure. I stepped outside to talk to Franco, to put him back in his place about you. Out of nowhere, someone hit me from behind. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. Everything went black after that. I only woke up because of the screaming. It took me a while to regain my senses, and when my vision cleared, Franco was gone. I got up, found the car, and, well, you know the rest."

"Where did Franco go ?"

"No idea, probably scurried off to hide, like the rat he is."

"But why would they attack you ?" I ask, feigning ignorance to avoid suspicion.

"I think the arsonists needed access through the front to set the fire. We were in their way, so they took us out," he concludes, convinced.

Satisfied with his explanation, I don't press the issue further. "The important thing is that we all made it out," I say with a smile.

He smiles back, taking my hand and kissing it, making me smile in return. Yet, without fully understanding why, I notice him tense, growing uncomfortable. I pretend not to see it and focus instead on the landscape speeding past, not wanting to dwell on it. The rest of the ride passes in silence. When we arrive, I step out of the car, Enoro following behind as he walks me to the door.

"Thank you for the evening, even if it ended in flames, it was still lovely," I say with a small smile.

"It was a wonderful night by your side," he replies, wincing in pain.

I turn the key in the door, then glance back at him. "Come on, let me take care of you."

I see him hesitate, then accept the invitation. His driver cuts the engine as we enter the house.

"Make yourself at home in the living room. Give me two minutes to change and grab what I need, then I'm all yours," I say, slipping off my heels.

I rush to my bedroom, swapping my dress for a pair of sweatpants and a warm hoodie. Grabbing the first aid kit, I rejoin Enoro in the living room.

He's sitting on the couch, head tilted back, eyes closed. As I sit beside him, he opens his eyes and quickly straightens up. I catch him staring at me, with less desire in his gaze than when we were on the dance floor.

"Do you want something to drink ?" I ask.

"Just some water, please."

His request makes me smile; I had expected him to ask for something stronger. I bring him a glass, which he downs in two gulps, and then I set to work on his wounds.

"If it reassures you, I studied biology. I know enough to take care of you," I say lightly as I pull the necessary items from the kit.

He chuckles, "Didn't expect that. You're full of surprises—a scientist turned singer."

"You expected a pretty face who's done nothing but music her whole life ?"

His expression darkens, and his brow furrows slightly. "I never thought that of you," he says seriously.

I smile at him and focus on his injuries. The closeness of our bodies charges the air between us. My heartbeat thrums in my head, sending a rush of excitement through my veins. I keep my attention on his brow as I clean the cut. But as I slowly withdraw my hand from his face, our eyes lock. I can't seem to tear mine away from his, and my breath becomes shallow. Our lips are so close, they could meet without effort. My whole body ignites when he places his hand on my thigh. In a slight movement, our lips merge in a passionate kiss.

A few seconds in, flashes flood my mind. Ezio, tending to me, comes rushing back. His eyes, his face, his smile, his warmth, and our love all play out like a film. Shaken by the memories, I abruptly pull away from Enoro, who looks at me, surprised and unsettled.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have," I apologize.

"I... I don't understand. I thought we both wanted this," he says, clearly troubled.

"I thought so too, but I was wrong. I'm sorry," I say, unable to meet his gaze.

"Not as much as I am," he retorts, standing to leave.

Left alone with my ghosts, I collapse onto the couch, overwhelmed by the thought of Ezio. I miss him terribly. Even though I want to move forward with Enoro, and desire burns inside me for him, the memory of Ezio—and the feeling of betrayal—paralyzes me. I stay curled up for a few minutes before pulling myself together and heading out, determined to channel my frustration into my mission with Abiani.

Riding fast on my bike, I push down my emotions and slip back into the role of the machine I must be for these executions. I arrive at the rendezvous, relieved to see everyone present and the warehouse still standing.

I burst in to find Franco bound and gagged in a chair, with Andy, Amadeo, and Andrea standing behind him. In front of him, Ginevra spits her hatred in his face.

As soon as Franco sees me, he bursts into laughter.

"Laugh all you want, you're not leaving here alive," I announce, smiling genuinely for the first time.

I step up to him and pull the gag from his mouth.

"I knew it, I was right—you're the goddamn Phoenix!"

"Impressive. I didn't think you had enough brains to think about me. Unfortunately for you, you're stupid enough to believe you had time."

"There weren't many people who could've been the Phoenix. When I saw you rise back under the spotlight, I knew it was you. No matter how miserable your life was before marrying Ezio, it went straight back to that misery the second that son of a bitch left us. To give meaning to your pathetic existence, you threw yourself into this vendetta. But no matter how far you get, you'll always be that poor, pitiful girl who deserves to end up in the gutter."

I let him finish before walking to a table full of instruments. I pick up a bandage and wrap it around my fist, then add a layer of barbed wire. I return to Franco, who's still laughing in my face.

"You have no idea what you've gotten into. A woman has no place in this world, and you even less so. No matter what you think, you're not credible, and certainly not fearsome."

With a broad smile and a swift movement, I drive my fist into his face. The barbed wire digs in deep, and as I yank my hand back, I tear away bits of flesh, along with a muffled scream he tries to stifle.

He straightens up, but this time with far less pride and a twisted smile.

"I want you to keep your eyes wide open and stay focused for what's coming next. That's why I'm going to give you a little break," I announce, signaling to my associates to bring in the magic box.

Franco's gaze clouds with confusion and apprehension. Andrea sets a carton down in front of me, the clinking of glass echoing through the room.

Without breaking eye contact with Franco, I take the first jar and set it at his feet, then repeat the process with the other three. His eyes dart between the jars and me.

"And ?"

"As you can probably tell, each jar contains a different organ."

"Thanks, I'm in the business—I know what they are. Is this some kind of Dexter Morgan thing, where instead of showing me photos of my victims, you're displaying their organs?"

I smile at his ignorance. "Not quite. I'm introducing you to your family," I say, pointing to the heart. "Your wife. Your firstborn," I point to the lungs. "Your second," I point to the brain. "And finally, your youngest," I say, pointing to the liver. "You're all reunited here. Quite ironic for an organ trafficker, isn't it?"

"You're fucking insane, you bitch !" he spits in my face.

"Oh no, I'm not at your level, Franco. My victims are far from innocent. Except for the children, of course. But we both know that if we don't kill them, they'll come back for revenge when they're old enough, won't they?" I say, glancing at Ginevra, who looks ready to explode with anger.

I return my focus to Franco. "Now, I'm going to have a little more fun with you before I let death take over."

I circle behind him, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water from the floor near the chair. Pulling his shirt over his face, I pour the water onto him, listening as he chokes and gasps, every bubble stinging his skin. Once the bottle is empty, and before lowering his shirt, I rewrap my hands with barbed wire and hammer his abdomen with punches, releasing the frustration and emotions I've been holding in. Despite his screams, I continue to strike, harder and harder, until I feel empty inside. His shirt immediately soaks up the blood as I pull it back down. Slumped forward, he struggles to breathe, his head drooping onto his chest. Grabbing his hair, I yank his head back and whisper into his ear.

"See you in hell, you piece of shit."

I let go of his hair, and his head falls forward.

I step aside, giving Ginevra the space to unleash her fury, her fists raining down on his face. I join the others, instructing Amadeo and Andrea to go burn down the Abiani mansion while Ginevra finishes him off. They leave without hesitation. Andy and I stand back, letting Ginevra claim her vengeance. When she finally decides it's time, she drives an iron rod into the ground beside the chair, then, with one final kick, she topples the seat. Franco's head impales on the rod with a sickening crack, blood spilling onto the cold, sandy floor of the warehouse. Ginevra stands frozen, staring at the scene, her body seemingly drained. Then she collapses to her knees, sobbing. Andy and I move to comfort her as she calms down. Once she regains her composure, Ginevra stands and speaks.

"Thank you, thank you for helping me end this. I may not feel better, but I'm relieved knowing he can't hurt anyone else."

"Let's finish this and burn it all down. No need to speak of it again," I conclude.

We leave, the warehouse behind us devoured by flames. We glance back, the crackling of wood echoing in the still night.

"Impressive ending, great idea," I say, impressed with Ginevra.

"Oh, it wasn't mine. I saw it in a movie and figured I'd try it out. Luckily, it worked," she replies, her eyes distant, reflecting the flames dancing in her pupils.

"Let's go, it's late, and we need rest."

"This is where we part ways, May. Thank you for everything, but I've lost enough time here. I need to take back my life. My future lies elsewhere, far from all of this. I hope you understand."

I smile, touched. "I understand completely. I hope you find the peace you deserve," I say, embracing her with all the compassion I can muster.

"I wish the same for you, May," she replies, returning the embrace.

We part ways, leaving Franco behind, consumed by the flames of hell.

After a short night's sleep, I wake up with a pounding headache. Even a hot shower doesn't relieve it, and the blinding light of the living room only makes it worse. I struggle to the couch, collapsing onto Andy, covering my eyes with the throw blanket.

"Good morning to you too, May. And wow, you're heavy. Come on."

"And you're super comfy, so leave me alone," I mumble from under the blanket.

"I can't leave you alone for long, news is already spreading."

"What are they saying ?"

"That the Phoenix has struck again. This time, the Abiani family was targeted, everything reduced to ashes like the others. They're also talking about the warehouse, where nothing but the body and the jars were found. Basically, they're just stating the facts with no real leads," Andy says, as if discussing trivial matters.

"They haven't connected the reception with what followed?"

"No, they mentioned both events but didn't link them."

"Perfect. Nothing to worry about. I can go back to bed then."

"Besides the headache, are you sure there's nothing else ?"

I fall silent and sigh.

"What's wrong ?"

"I messed everything up last night," I admit, collapsing face-first into her lap.

"Damn it, May, what did you do this time?" she groans.

I sit up before continuing.

"We kissed, but then memories of Ezio flooded in, and I froze. I pushed Enoro away, and he left, pissed."

"Ouch, I get it. Listen, it's been almost three years since Ezio died, and I understand it's hard for you to take that step and that you feel guilty, but you can't stop yourself from living a beautiful story because of a ghost. Ezio isn't coming back. He's gone, but you're still here, and you shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to love again. Ezio will always be a part of you, he'll stay in your heart forever, but he doesn't need to take up all the space. You can love two men, especially when one of them is dead. Yes, it's hard, but don't beat yourself up for having feelings for someone else—it's normal. It's been three years, May, think about that. You know better than anyone how short life is, so don't waste it for a memory that's only hurting you. Give yourself the chance to be happy. You've suffered enough, and you deserve some happiness when it comes your way. You have the right to love again, even if you think you don't. So, the next time you see him, throw caution to the wind and blow his mind in bed."

I laugh at her last remark and hug her tightly.

"Thanks, Andy, but it's not that easy. I think I really hurt his pride."

"There's only one way to find out."

"You're right. For now, though, I'm going back to bed—I'm exhausted," I say, heading to my room.