"Dimitri, do you know the duality of red lipstick?" (Y/n) had asked him during their drive to his penthouse. She applied her elegant red lipstick while he drove his car through the city. 

He smiled, interested in her explanations. "No, my love. Care to enlighten me?"

"A red lipstick can turn a woman into the most exquisite creature. She can become elegant, rich, confident, and bold. She can be sublime." (Y/n) had answered adding flair to her speech, enthralling him. "On one end though, she can look like the most common whore. Cheap and easy. Someone no one would respect." 

Dimitri simply hummed in reply, enjoying the sound of her voice. His favorite is when she tells him things and her voice changes in octave, in excitement, and becomes somewhat lilting or theatrical. 

"Tell me, Dimitri," she addressed him with amusement and playfulness dancing in her tone. "What does red look like for me?"

There is always wisdom in her little monologs. She hides secrets behind her cryptic words and random rants although sometimes he wonders if she just allows her intrusive thoughts to win whenever he's with her. 

🌹

An expensive red lipstick rests between his fingers. She loved this one so much. It looked so beautiful on her, fitting for the seductive temptress that she is. 

Dimitri sat beside (Y/n)'s bed, the steady beep of the heart monitor a cruel reminder of the life hanging by a thread before him. Her face was pale, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her body lay still, entrapped in a coma induced by the poison she had willingly consumed to prove her resolve and protect the Garden of Flowers.

Dimitri's eyes were red and tired, his thoughts a whirlwind of guilt, anger, and regret. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her cold skin. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted this for you."

He stared at her face, so serene and yet so fragile. Memories of their time together flooded his mind: her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy, the warmth of her touch. Now, she lay motionless, her spirit seemingly quenched by the poison that coursed through her veins. He cursed himself for not realizing sooner the depth of her commitment, the strength of her resolve.

Every hour felt like an eternity as he waited for news. He had ordered his people to search for Belladonna 618, the only one who held the antidote, but every lead ended in a dead end. She was a ghost, leaving no evidence, no trace.  Dimitri’s frustration grew with each passing hour.

He stood up and paced the room, running his fingers through his hair. “Damn it!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the sterile walls. He punched the wall, the pain in his knuckles a fleeting distraction from the agony in his heart. His mind raced, trying to think of any missed clues, any possible leads they hadn’t followed up on. But every thought led to a dead end.

The room was suffocating. Dimitri looked at (Y/n) again, feeling utterly helpless. He had faced countless enemies and survived numerous battles, but this... this was something he couldn’t fight. He sat back down, resting his head on the bed beside her hand, his body wracked with silent sobs.

“Please, (Y/n). Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

The door creaked open, and Hecate stepped in, her expression somber. 

"What have you found so far?" he asked without even turning to look at her. 

"This Briar's Spindle is indeed a unique poison," Hecate began, her tone slick with her French accent. "It baffles me. I've never seen anything that works like this before. It had similarities to some things that I know but the nature of this poison is harder to understand. There are ingredients unknown even to me. I am led to believe that they, the Garden, cultivates extinct plants which is why I do not know them."

"In short, you can't do anything to cure her." Dimitir summarized, his voice low and foreboding. 

Hecate stood with unease. Dimitri has never harmed her nor treated her poorly however she can't deny how terrifying he can be. Hecate is a brave woman who is usually undaunted but Dimitri is the very definition of fear. She knew his methods, his cruelties can be subtle but cut very deep. This is especially apparent now that the love of his life is drifting from his hold like the fine sands of the desert. 

She could see him torturing himself by being near her and relieving the memories that led to this. She sympathizes with him as a person who has someone she loves. She would offer him comfort but she knew that it would be of no use to him. 

“We’re doing everything we can, Dimitri,” she said softly. “But we need more time.”

“I don’t have time!” he snapped, immediately regretting his outburst once he saw fear in her eyes. Hecate didn’t deserve his anger. She was one of the most loyal people who had served him through everything. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I just... I need to fix everything.”

"We need the girl she so dearly loves. The one who she entrusted with her life." 

Hecate nodded. “We’ll find her. Belladonna 618 can’t hide forever. I will immediately contact Thanatos. I heard that he had previously bumped into her on some missions. He's bound to know a thing or two about her nature.”

Dimitri nodded, but his heart was heavy with doubt. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom, the fear that he might lose (Y/n) before they could find the antidote. He leaned back in the chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. His eyes closed, not out of a desire to sleep but from sheer emotional fatigue.

"You may go." Hecate left with his command and Dimitri is once again alone with (Y/n). 

In the quiet moments that followed, Dimitri’s thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had with (Y/n).

"Dimitri, this is the length I would go to protect my family. This is the consequence of your actions. My death." 

"If you decided to be a better man, then... the one who holds the antidote is... Belladonna 618. You already know her name. You're smart after all... you'll figure it out."

Her words played over and over in his mind, each one a painful reminder of what was at stake. He remembered her strength, her determination, and it reignited a small spark of hope within him. He had to believe that she would survive this, that they would find a way.

A silent knock captured his attention. Trismegistus entered shortly afterward holding his laptop in one hand while a document for papers in another. He looked at his mentor who had become sad and worn with anxiety. He felt a pang of pity for Dimitri. He had never seen him like this so he doesn't know how to act properly based on his mood. 

Tristan's gaze fell on the woman who lay motionless in bed. He pushed his glasses over his nose and stared at (Y/n). He had only seen her through pictures and CCTV footage but to finally see her in person feels a bit surreal. She was beautiful despite her current state which made him feel more sorry for her. 

"What did you find? Are you coming to disappoint me as well?" Dimitri spoke coldly, making Tristan flinch. The redhead stuttered but mustered his courage soon enough. 

"I came here to talk to you about some weird things I found about the inventory of four of our bases. It says here that the shipments of weapons were received but the inventories were not updated. There are also several discrepancies made in some reports. They are subtle but I noticed that they can pose a big problem for us in the future." 

Tristan paused trying to measure his reaction but so far Dimitri seemed disinterested in his report. This made him feel somewhat discouraged but he needed to make his point to protect their organization. He swallowed before gathering the courage to speak again. "It seems to be happening for a few months now. It either implies incompetency or... Betrayal." 

The words felt heavy being spoken out in the open. Tristan wasn't sure how Dimitri would react. He knows his boss can be rather menacing when it comes to betrayal so he prepares himself for the worst. 

"I see," Dimitri replied, not showing any reaction to the report. "Further investigate the matter until you find complete proof and present it to me."

This both surprised and disappointed Tristan. He had hoped to have Dimitri's guidance on the matter but based on his words he seems to tell him that he can't be bothered by it. 

"Yes, I would boss... But I was wondering if... You could—"

"Thank you, Trismegistus. You are dismissed."

"But boss I—"

Another knock resounded, interrupting Tristan. Cerberus came in from the door and nodded to Dimitri. "She's here boss."

Dimitri placed a chaste kiss upon his lover's head, ignoring the hacker, and proceeded to exit the room. 

🌹

"Thank you for meeting me, grandmother." Dimitri greeted the elder woman who now sat across from him. He had summoned (Y/n)'s grandmother through Cerberus and she had arrived although reluctantly. The tiredness of late-night events is evident in her exhausted and haggard appearance. 

(Y/n)'s comment proved to be true. Grandmas party like they're dying tomorrow. 

"Ah yes, your people rudely called me and delivered me here while I was still vomiting in my toilet. What do you need in this early hour child? Tell me, did you get my granddaughter pregnant and now you're here to ask for my permission to marry her? Let me remind you that it was only 2 days ago that I allowed you to court her."

"It's not that grandmother." He began, his voice had lost all its mirth. "(Y/n) had drunk poison. It's called Briar's Spindle. A product of the Garden." Dimitri felt a slap against his cheek. The sound resonated through the silence of the room. 

"This is what I warned you about." Seraphina hissed, venom dripping from every word. "Associating with you... My granddaughter will be labeled as a Black Dahlia(1)... Her own sisters will have to kill her if she becomes a Black Dahlia and now she did this," Fury radiated off of her body. Her eyes became livid with the rage she was feeling. She had abruptly stood from her chair while he remained seated unable to meet her eyes. 

"What did you do?"

"Grandmother, do you know who Belladonna 618 is?" He asked, dismissing her words. Now is not the time to play the blame game. Now is the time to find answers. 

"What?" 

"I need to know who Belladonna 618 is. She holds the antidote for the poison. Do you know who she is?"

"I... I don't know."

"How can you not know? You were once a Matriarch. Are you trying to hide her?"

"No, in my era there was only Belladonna1 up to Belladonna 256. Now that I am retired I don't know how many there are or who they are. (Y/n) isn't allowed to tell me their names despite my previous position." Dimitri tried to find any hint of falsehood or deceit from her face, but the elderly woman was telling the truth.

She doesn't know. 

"Do you know how I can find her?"

"I know you can find her on your own. Something you love is at stake after all. (Y/n) is trying to test you and of course giving you a message. Knowing my granddaughter she already gave you all the answers you just have to piece it all together. "

"I've been trying really hard but even my smartest agents cannot find her or figure it out. I've tried checking up on her friends and her relatives but none of them are the right Nymph." 

Seraphina snorted, which made Dimitri raise a brow. "Maybe your archives aren't complete. My family is bigger than you think."

"What do you suggest?"

"You seem to have some pent-up emotions. Perhaps going to a "club" and relieving your stress would work wonders for your state. I'm sure (Y/n) wouldn't mind."

"I would never—" Dimitri was nearly livid at the suggestion but he paused understanding her message. "That might be a good idea, grandma."

"It is. Why don't you bring a bouquet of nine red spider lilies and tie it in a white ribbon? I'm sure the girls will appreciate it."

"I will."

"I shall entrust my granddaughter to you. Make sure she comes back to me alive."

"Thank you for your wise counsel, grandmother." 

Seraphina stood from her seat and Cerberus guided her outside the building. The Belarusian man would drive her home and see to it that a gift basket of sorts is provided for her. 

Dimitri sighed, this would be the first time he made direct contact with the Garden. He needs to make sure that everything is perfect. 

🌹

In the remote corners of the city where decay and immorality ran rampant, a hidden gathering took place. The dimly lit warehouse was a sanctuary for the desperate and the damned, a breeding ground for those who thrived in the shadows. The air was thick with the stench of rot and corruption, the walls echoing with whispers of conspiracy and treachery.

At the head of the gathering stood a man with a thick scar running down his face, a grotesque reminder of his past encounter with the King of Assassins. The scar was a gift, a warning he could never forget and an offense he could never forgive. His eyes, dark and vengeful, scanned the room filled with his loyal followers. Each of them bore the mark of the underworld, men and women who had nothing to lose and everything to gain from overthrowing Aidoneus and his empire.

“Do you think we're ready?” he asked, his voice a low, menacing growl that commanded attention.

“Of course we are,” replied a burly man, his face twisted into a sneer. He stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the crates with the logo of Frost Bringer, stacked high against the far wall. “That fucker Aidoneus won't know what's coming until it hits him. Time for payback.”

The scarred man’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Good. Aidoneus has grown complacent. He’s been distracted by his little romance, leaving his organization vulnerable. Now is our chance to strike.”

Around the room, nods of agreement and murmurs of approval echoed. The tension was palpable, the anticipation electric. This was their moment, the culmination of years of resentment and planning.

A woman with sharp eyes and a deadly demeanor stepped forward, her voice cutting through the din. “We’ve infiltrated their supply lines. Their resources are stretched thin. When we attack, they won't have the means to defend themselves effectively.”

“And what about their allies?” another man asked, his voice laced with concern. “The Frost Bringer isn’t just Aidoneus. They have powerful friends.”

The scarred man waved off the concern with a dismissive gesture. “We have our own alliances. Morozov is eager to see Aidoneus fall, and they’ve promised their support. With their help, we’ll crush any resistance.”

A ripple of excitement spread through the room. The Morozov mercenaries were known for their ruthlessness and efficiency. With them on their side, the odds of success seemed significantly higher.

“We strike at dawn,” the scarred man announced, his voice booming with authority. “Hit them where it hurts. Take their bases, cut off their communications, and leave no survivors. We’ll send a message that the Frost Bringer is finished.”

The gathering erupted into a chorus of cheers and battle cries, the air thick with the promise of violence and retribution. The scarred man watched with satisfaction, his heart pounding with the thrill of impending conquest. This was his moment, his chance to avenge the humiliation he had suffered at Aidoneus’ hands.

As the plans were finalized and the men and women dispersed to prepare for the assault, the scarred man lingered, his eyes lingering on the crates bearing the Frost Bringer logo. His fingers traced the scar on his face, a reminder of the debt he intended to collect.

“Aidoneus,” he muttered under his breath, “your reign is over.”

With a final glance around the warehouse, he turned and walked into the shadows, his mind already savoring the sweet taste of victory.