The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Victor’s mind was reeling. How could someone so young-looking hold such a high-ranking position at Crimson Web headquarters? It was almost unbelievable. As he glanced back at Nova, a wave of admiration washed over him, his eyes wide with newfound respect.

The other executives remained frozen, their expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief. Slowly, Victor rose from his chair, strode purposefully toward Nova, and lowered himself into a deep bow. His voice trembled slightly as he said, “So it’s really you… I was blind to not recognize you sooner. Please forgive my ignorance.”

Victor had only known Nova as a senior elder within Crimson Web, never daring to imagine that her influence extended far beyond that. The possibility that she might be the very founder of the organization had never even crossed his mind. Simply uncovering her true identity felt like a heavy blow, as if the ground beneath him had shifted.

The executives from Frostwave Bar clearly had no understanding of what Crimson Web truly represented. To them, Nova was just a young woman, but witnessing their boss bow down in such reverence right after she spoke was utterly shocking—completely unlike Victor’s usual demeanor.

In that instant, every executive’s jaw practically dropped in unison. Yet, these were seasoned veterans of the underworld, well aware when to keep their silence and follow orders. Though curiosity gnawed at them, none dared to question Victor’s sudden show of respect.

“Meeting’s over,” Victor announced firmly. “I need to discuss some business with her.” He turned to the bald, middle-aged man standing nearby and instructed, “Lance, please escort everyone else out.”

Lance nodded without hesitation, swiftly guiding the other executives and their teams from the room. Even the burly man Nova had been holding by the neck was pulled away.

Soon enough, the room was left with only Victor and Nova.

Victor bowed again, this time with even greater deference, his nerves evident. “Did headquarters send you with something urgent? Is there a particular task you need me to handle?”

If the people of Ravenport could witness their city’s most feared kingpin—the man whose single word could shake the entire criminal underworld—bowing before a girl barely old enough to be taken seriously, they would surely be stunned beyond belief.

While Victor’s tension was palpable, Nova remained the very picture of calm. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, casually pulling the seat closer with her foot before settling into it. Her brows lifted slightly, her eyes cool and unreadable.

Nova had no patience for idle talk and wasted no time getting to the point. “I’m here because I need something from you. I want the latest intelligence on the global underworld—everything significant that’s happened over the past six months. You have twenty-four hours.”

She was referring to mercenaries, assassins, spies, lethal syndicates, private armies, black market overlords from every continent, and those families who treated arms trafficking as a hereditary trade.

For people like them, death was just part of the daily routine.

The underworld was ever-shifting—alliances could flip overnight, empires rise and crumble in the blink of an eye.

Nova had spent six grueling months stranded on Devil’s Isle, and stepping back into the world, she could tell the landscape had changed drastically once more.

That was precisely why she needed the freshest information available.

Moreover, before returning to the Blake family, she still recalled Ray’s ominous warning during her escape: no matter what, she would be dragged back to Devil’s Isle.

Even if Ray relented, Devil’s Isle would never forgive her for pulling off the first successful escape. Sooner or later, they would come for her.

For Nova, the first step was to stay ahead of the game—she had to be prepared before anyone knocked on her door.

Victor had assumed Nova was a high-level agent sent by Crimson Web HQ to issue commands. He never imagined all she wanted was information.

Taking a deep breath, Victor nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. It’s an honor to serve you. May I ask where you’re staying? As soon as the intel is ready tomorrow, I’ll have someone deliver it directly to you.”

Nova shook her head. “No need. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

With that, she rose, one hand slipping casually into her pocket, and walked out with effortless cool, not uttering another word.

Business concluded. From headquarters to the bar, no one dared to stand in her way this time.

By the time Nova stepped outside the bar, darkness had fully engulfed the city. Night had truly settled in.

Above, stars dotted the sky like tiny fledglings pecking their way from the shell, each one competing to shine its own light.

It was almost as if the universe itself was signaling that trouble was brewing this night.

The route from Frostwave Bar to Blake Villa was a quiet one—few cars, hardly any pedestrians—with streetlights flickering and fading as if on the verge of dying out.

The air was bitterly cold, colder than usual. Nova was alone in the shadows, surrounded by an eerie stillness.

Suddenly, her sharp ears caught the faint hiss of a submachine gun.

The sound was so subtle it nearly blended into the night—a silenced shot fired from a distance.

Yet, from that single muffled report, Nova instantly identified the weapon.

She didn’t even need to see it; that muffled pop was unmistakably a submachine gun.

In a place where guns were legal, such noise wouldn’t raise alarms.

But this was Zoria—a city where firearms were strictly forbidden—and Nova knew that all too well.

That realization sent a chill racing down her spine.

Whether by fate or instinct, her body reacted before her mind could catch up, shifting swiftly to the side on autopilot.

In the blink of an eye, she vanished from her original spot.

She moved silently through the darkness, honing in on the source of the distant gunfire.

Her footsteps were ghostlike, barely making a sound as she advanced.

Within less than two minutes, something new caught her attention.

A woman’s voice drifted through the night air. “Please, have mercy. I was wrong. I swear I’ll never do it again. I shouldn’t have betrayed Shadow Sanctum. Just give me another chance. I beg you—please, just one more chance.”

Nova knew Damien’s reputation all too well—it was legendary in her circles.

But this was their first face-to-face encounter. Had they met before, swords would have been drawn without hesitation.

“Too late,” Damien said, his voice cold and emotionless, as if the woman crushed beneath his boot wasn’t even worth a glance.

His words sent a shiver down the spine—an eerie thrill mixed with a primal sense of dread.

At the same time, he did something that could freeze anyone’s blood.

With one gloved hand, Damien casually gripped a submachine gun, the weapon seeming like an extension of his very will.

The muzzle pointed directly at the desperate woman beneath him.

Without hesitation, he opened fire.

She jerked violently, flailing like a fish out of water, and within seconds, she was lifeless.

Nova knew this was Damien’s way—drop-dead handsome on the outside, but ruthless and unforgiving in his methods.

Even she didn’t dare confront him head-on; with someone like Damien, caution wasn’t just wise—it was essential for survival.

She had no clue why he had appeared here tonight.

One thing was clear: Damien Thorn was Nova’s destined nemesis.

In the underworld, when two heavyweights couldn’t unite, war was the only alternative. The other option was to become sworn enemies.

It was kill or be killed.

If Nova ever faced him directly, a deadly battle was inevitable.

Her plan was to vanish quietly before Damien even realized she was present.

Just as she turned to slip back into the shadows, Damien’s head snapped toward her.

His deep, arrogant eyes locked onto hers with the fierce intensity of a predator who had just spotted its prey.

Damn, he saw me, Nova thought, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.