VLADIMIR’S POV

“I have your daughter, she looks just like Eli,” my father said, his voice brimming with excitement as he watched me walk into the room. His eyes sparkled with a strange kind of admiration, a pride I could never quite understand. 

“How did you get her? The last news I heard was that she was with Sophie,” I asked, my voice laced with suspicion. 

Father leaned back in his chair, the smile on his face widening. “She blew up Sophie’s house along with hundreds of Vixens who tried to take her. Sophie pretended to protect her and let her escape, but the truth is... the enemy was waiting outside the entire time. She used Sophie to get away. Brilliant, isn’t it?” His voice echoed with admiration, as if he were talking about a prized possession, not his own granddaughter. 

My mind raced, trying to comprehend the situation. This wasn’t just a girl fleeing from danger. No, she was already thinking ten steps ahead, manipulating everything and everyone around her from the start. Her first kill was Sophie, and the way she did it… it chilled me. She heard Sophie begging the Elder, promising to sacrifice her own child—Ice—if the experiments failed. She killed Sophie without hesitation, without a second thought. 

I left her in Father’s care, hoping for her to have a normal life. I was wrong. So wrong. 

---

As I watched her grow, I realized everything about her approach to Father was calculated. It wasn’t innocence; it was manipulation. She used the fact that she was his granddaughter to feed off his wealth and influence. At a young age, she understood exactly how to bend people to her will, how to make them dance to her tune. I was amazed at first, but then it dawned on me—this girl, this child, was playing a game far more dangerous than any of us realized. 

She wasn’t just taking advantage of Father’s wealth. She was using it to build an empire of her own, a foundation of control that would one day make her untouchable. I couldn’t stop her. I didn’t even know how to. 

To keep her off the radar of the Elders, I erased her existence. No records, no trace. It was as if she had never existed. 

---

But that was never enough for her. One day, Father came to me with a request. The Nerraw family was getting in the way of his business dealings, and he wanted them silenced. He chose Hyra to do it. And she did it perfectly. I couldn’t help but admire her efficiency. She had no remorse, no hesitation in eliminating anyone who posed a threat. She was becoming something else, something I couldn’t control or even begin to understand. 

The next time I saw her, she had entered the dungeon. A place filled with criminals, outcasts, the forgotten. When she emerged, she was different—stronger, colder. 

Father told me she had made a marriage certificate, claiming she liked some boy, someone she didn’t want to let go. But when I looked closer, I realized it was all part of her plan. She had already claimed a territory, and no one could stop her from taking more. 

Then came the day I lost track of her. 

She went into the Underground, a cesspool of illegal dealings and hidden secrets. The last thing I wanted was for her to enter such a place, especially at her young age. But she was already too deep, too far gone to be stopped. 

I had nothing to hold her back with anymore. I couldn’t control her.

---

The next time I heard from her, she was no longer just a child—I was dealing with a monster. She had taken on the identity of *Demon* in the Underground, a figure of fear and reverence. She had manipulated Saphora into pretending to be her, using the girl as a puppet. 

“I’m lacking in people. Do you have any recommendations?” she had said to me, as casually as if we were on equal footing, as if I weren’t her father.

I was taken aback. “What kind of people are you looking for?”

She laughed, the sound cold and distant. “Someone handsome, even if they aren’t strong. Just handsome.”

I blinked, unsure how to respond. How old was she? What had happened to the girl I left with Father? 

I didn’t know anyone who fit that description, but I gave her a suggestion anyway. “Cain. He's the bastard son of Park. There’s an attempt on his life. He’s got a brother, Cyrus. Both of them are handsome.” 

She considered it for a moment, her gaze distant. “Okay. Cain is mine. And you’ll take care of him. Make him an Elder—the second one.” 

It was then I realized I had just given her the keys to another part of my life. Cain, or *Uno* as he became known, entered the fold, becoming one of her pawns. She had all the pieces she needed now. 

---

Months passed, and she handed me a list of names, the first and second masks. There were three remaining spots. She told me not to worry about the last one. She had a plan. I assumed she would have Nathan take the first mask position, but I knew that would never work. Nathan, her brother, was too close to her. If he knew the truth, if he took the mask, his emotions would cloud his judgment. So, I chose Ice, Sophie’s son, a perfect candidate to face Demon—her greatest enemy. 

Now, as I reflect, I can’t help but wonder—was it my mistake to choose Ice? Could I have stopped this from happening if I had chosen differently? 

But the truth is, it doesn’t matter. It was always going to happen this way. Demon had been planning for this moment from the very beginning. Every detail of her future was mapped out, every move calculated. It was never about the masks, the Elders, or even Ice. It was about power. And she had already claimed it. 

I realize now—there was no stopping her. She had already won.

---

"She will be parked in the plaza today"

"Why are you telling me that?"  I asked Salvador and then sat in the seat in front of him. "You are the president of the country, why aren't you there?" 

"Ice and the leaders of neighboring countries took that responsibility from me." He poured some wine and drank it. "Do you work for anyone?"

He's sharp.

"Whose?" I also poured some wine and played with it. "Ice? He doesn't have the guts to make a deal with me."

"I know it's not Ice, but your acting like your waiting for something to happen. It's like you already know what's going to happen."

"Why did you side with Demon then, and betray her? Is this still part of the act?"

SALVADOR'S POV

Huh? He’s really smart. 

In the middle of our conversation, he suddenly shifted the topic, as if he were testing me. 

“You know me, Vladimir,” I said, keeping my tone light yet measured. “I’m where I think I can benefit. You and I, we both know Demon’s plan, and we’re just waiting for it to unfold. But…” I leaned closer, narrowing my eyes, “what’s strange is that you’re restless. Can’t you wait for her to die? Or maybe…” I tilted my head slightly. “Maybe there’s another reason.” 

I expected him to react defensively, but instead, Vladimir smirked—a bitter, knowing smirk that sent a chill down my spine. 

“Pfft—” He let out a short laugh, his voice low and dark, as if amused by my ignorance. 

“The betrayal,” I continued, my voice firmer now, “is still part of the plan.” That shut him up. His smirk vanished, replaced by a fleeting expression of surprise. 

“She told me I would betray her to clear my name after everything was over,” I said, my voice faltering for a moment as the weight of my own words sank in. “To lead the country, I need to be a good role model for everyone. And… to ease the burden on my conscience.” 

Vladimir’s eyes darkened, his amusement gone. 

“We’re both doing this to clear our consciences,” he muttered, his voice quieter, almost haunted. “I haven’t been a good father, and I’ll do everything—*everything*—to be given another chance.” 

His words threw me off, confusion flooding my thoughts. He wasn’t talking about Demon’s grand plan anymore. No, this was something personal, something deeper. But before I could press him further, he waved it off, his expression closing like a door slammed shut. He didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t about to push him. 

---

The silence between us stretched, heavy and suffocating. The air felt thick with the weight of unspoken truths. I took a sip of my drink, my hands trembling slightly. Vladimir, of all people, unsettled me in a way no one else could. He wasn’t like the other leaders or manipulators I’d dealt with in my career. There was something raw about him, something deeply fractured. 

“You think you’ll find redemption in this?” I finally asked, breaking the silence. My voice was low, almost a whisper. “You think clearing your conscience will make you a good father?” 

He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the table between us. 

“It’s not about redemption,” he said, his tone colder now. “It’s about making sure that when this is all over, I can look in the mirror and not hate the man staring back at me. It’s about giving her something—*anything*—that I never gave her before.” 

His words hit me harder than I expected. I wanted to scoff, to tell him that we were both fools for thinking we could ever escape the blood on our hands. But I didn’t. 

Because I understood. 

Demon’s shadow loomed over both of us. For me, she was the key to a future I had carefully crafted for myself. For Vladimir, she was something far more complicated—a daughter, a weapon, a force of nature he could never truly control. 

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling sharply. 

“She’s dangerous,” I said, breaking the silence. 

“She’s brilliant,” Vladimir countered, his voice steady but laced with something I couldn’t quite place—pride? Fear? Maybe both. 

“And what happens when the brilliance burns out?” I asked, meeting his gaze. 

Vladimir’s jaw tightened, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Then I’ll be there to put out the flames. Even if it means burning myself with them.” 

---

As I left the room, his words stayed with me, echoing in my mind. I wanted to believe that I could betray Demon, walk away from her, and step into the light as the man who saved the country. But deep down, I knew the truth. 

We were all just pieces in her game, and she was the one holding the board.

---

The next day, the entire fortress buzzed with activity. Everyone was tense, waiting for the interrogation of Demon. As the President of the country, I was supposed to lead the questioning, but I knew she wouldn’t take me seriously. She never did. So, I handed the responsibility over to the Elders, who seemed eager to break her spirit. 

Suddenly, a deafening *BOOOOGSHHH!* rattled the room, the doors flung open with a force that left the hinges trembling. All heads snapped toward the entrance. And there she was—Demon, handcuffed, her confident smirk mocking the chains that bound her. 

“What the hell is she wearing?” I heard Ice mutter under his breath, his tone laced with disbelief. 

One of the underlings stammered an explanation. “S-Sorry, my lord. She resisted and demanded proper clothing. She said she wouldn’t come unless we gave her what she wanted.” His voice trembled, as though even recounting the encounter was terrifying. 

I turned my gaze to Demon. She stood tall, dressed in a flowing black dress with intricate lace sleeves, towering high heels—easily 12 inches—and a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a dark veil that partially obscured her face. She looked like she was attending a funeral—her own, perhaps. 

I shook my head in disbelief. Even now, surrounded by her enemies, she played the situation like it was a game. 

“Why are you dressed like that?” one of the Elders demanded, his voice sharp with irritation. 

“Why not?” Demon replied casually, her tone dripping with audacity. Her voice cut through the tension in the room, silencing the murmurs. 

“Take that off!” The Elder barked, his composure slipping. He gestured for the guards to strip her of her theatrics, but before they could move, Ice raised his hand. 

“That’s enough,” Ice said coldly, his voice echoing in the room. His gaze never left Demon. “She’s going to die anyway. Let her play dress-up if it makes her happy.” 

A sinister smile spread across Demon’s lips. “That’s so sweet, Mister,” she cooed, her tone mockingly affectionate. 

Mister. That was new. She’d always called him *Maniego*, always with a hint of disdain. Ice’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he lunged at her, his hand wrapping around her throat. 

“Don’t mock me,” Ice growled, his voice low and dangerous. His grip was merciless, his veins bulging as he choked her. 

Demon’s expression didn’t falter. She didn’t resist, didn’t claw at his hand. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if she were studying him. The room was silent, save for the sound of her strained breathing. 

When Ice finally released her, she crumpled to the ground. The thud of her body hitting the floor was followed by gasps and murmurs from the onlookers. Insults and accusations were hurled at her, but Demon remained on the ground, unmoving. 

From where I sat, I noticed a few faces in the crowd—her remaining allies, their expressions twisted with barely contained rage. But they stayed rooted in place, clearly restrained by her orders. 

An Elder stepped forward, clearing his throat to address her. “Demon, you have committed atrocities beyond measure. Arson, assault, destruction of property, kidnapping, theft, murder—” 

“Oh, have I?” Demon interrupted, her tone mockingly innocent as she sat up and brushed off her dress. “Sorry, must’ve been the voice in my head. Carry on.” She gestured lazily, as if giving him permission to continue. 

I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands. She was insane. 

The Elder’s face turned red with anger, but he pushed forward. “You have destroyed lives, left families in ruins, and instilled fear into every corner of this nation. The people will never know peace as long as you are alive. For these crimes, you are condemned to death.” 

A wide grin split her face. “Yes, finally! So… when?” She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with anticipation. 

“Not yet,” the Elder snapped, his voice shaking with frustration. “First, you must pay for your sins. You will—” 

“Ahh, no chill,” Demon cut him off, sighing dramatically before turning her gaze to Ice. “I want to die in your hands, Mister.” 

Ice froze, his expression faltering for the first time. He took a step back, as if her words had physically struck him. 

The room buzzed with unease. Demon’s laughter cut through the tension like a knife. It wasn’t loud or hysterical—it was soft, chilling, and filled with the kind of malice that made your skin crawl. 

“Careful,” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. “You might actually start to care, Mister. Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” 

Her words hung in the air, a twisted reminder that even in chains, she was the one in control.

KRYSTAL’S POV

“For these crimes, you are condemned to death.” 

*CLICK.* 

The screen went black as Megumi turned off the TV. Her hand lingered on the remote for a moment, her expression unreadable. 

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the silence between us heavy. The echoes of the Elder’s declaration still rang in my ears, a constant reminder of how close Demon was to her supposed end. 

“Remember when our family’s business went bankrupt?” Megumi said suddenly, her voice steady but laced with quiet bitterness. “That was Demon's doing. It was part of her plan—to push us to the brink, bankrupt us, and wait until we were desperate. Then she came in, offering help like some kind of savior.” 

I nodded. Everyone in our families had known this truth for years. It wasn’t new to me, but hearing her say it out loud brought an ache to my chest. 

Megumi’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Every single one of our families knew it was her who destroyed us. And yet, they still made peace with her. They welcomed her into their circles and introduced us to her. Do you know why?” 

“Why?” I asked, my curiosity genuine despite already knowing parts of the answer. I’d always wondered why our parents willingly placed us in the hands of the very person who tore us apart. 

“Because Demon promised to protect us,” she said simply. Her voice was calm, but her words carried the weight of years of pain and confusion. “And that’s exactly what she did. She didn’t just protect us—she severed ties with us when she knew trouble was coming, just so we wouldn’t be dragged down with her. She’s kept us safe, Krystal, even when it meant sacrificing her connection to us.” 

Her words settled over me like a storm cloud. I looked at her, trying to understand the quiet resolve in her eyes. “Why are you telling me this now?” 

She turned to me, her expression softening. “Because I know you already know it. Demon has never truly hurt us. Sure, she made us accomplices in her schemes, but that’s it. She never put us in harm’s way. And you…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer, her gaze piercing. “You’ve always known that, haven’t you?” 

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. 

My mind wandered to the first time we met Demon. She wasn’t the monster the media painted her to be. I remembered how we’d played games in her presence, how she’d watched us with this strange, almost childlike fascination. She didn’t join in at first, though, just sat there and watched, her expression eager but hesitant. 

It wasn’t until we realized something odd—she didn’t know how to play. She had never played before. 

The memory made my heart ache. It was ridiculous, really, to feel pity for someone like her. But I couldn’t help it. 

“No matter what games the media and those in government play,” Megumi continued, her voice breaking into my thoughts, “they won’t make me hate Demon. And I know, wherever Nathan is now, he would understand too.” 

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Nathan. The mere mention of his name made my chest tighten. 

“Is that why you didn’t cry when they told you Nathan was dead?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Because you don’t believe it?” 

Megumi turned to me, her expression hardening. “Same as you,” she said sharply. “Did you believe it when they said Demon killed Jared?” 

I froze. Jared. His name was like a knife to my throat. 

“You know she wouldn’t do that,” Megumi said, her voice softening. “Demon doesn’t kill the people she chooses to rule. Jared, Nathan—they were chosen. Just like us.” 

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. It was true. Demon didn’t kill without purpose, and she didn’t harm her own. She was ruthless, yes, but never senseless. 

The weight of the room seemed to press down on us. Megumi’s words hung in the air like a storm cloud, and I found myself struggling to breathe. 

“Do you think she’ll survive this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

Megumi’s expression softened. She reached out, her hand resting on mine. “Demon doesn’t just survive,” she said quietly. “She wins.” 

And deep down, I knew she was right.