A lot of things crossed Ashley’s mind all night, haunting her in her sleep and lingering even after she opened her eyes.

She wondered whether or not she was being selfish.

She even thought back to the first time she had been exposed to this kind of violence, only to realize she couldn’t remember all of it — nor could she find an answer to whether she was being selfish or not.

After thinking it through, Ashley still didn’t have a clear answer. But to be honest? She realized she didn’t need one anymore.

Because after everything that had happened, her mind was clearer than it had ever been.

She had done many horrible things for the Di Carpios out of survival. For the family that used her as a tool — the family that never valued her as a human being — she had given everything. She could do far more for Dominion.

Not just for Lucian, but especially for Primo.

Ashley finally accepted the fact that she could not save herself — or the younger Ashley — from what had been done to her, even in this second life.

But she had a chance to save Primo from everything she had endured. She had the chance to shield him from all of it.

She might not be the person who brought him into the world, but she could not go back. Especially not when this boy looked at her with those shimmering, innocent eyes and told her,

[Mama, let’s eat.]

Ashley smiled softly at him and nodded as she sat down in the dining room.

I will not survive this time just out of spite because I refuse to give Marshal the satisfaction of seeing me dead, she whispered inwardly. This time, I will survive no matter what... to protect what I can.

Lucian, Primo, Dominion... and this home.

Even if I go to hell for it.

"Sure, let’s eat a lot! I’m actually starving!" she declared, earning a chuckle from Nolan as he helped serve more food onto the table.

*****

Meanwhile, just across the street from their home, Red, Rum, Gin, Vodka, and Tank crouched together, passing around a cigarette while watching the family head inside.

The five of them narrowed their eyes as the young master suddenly glanced in their direction. Then they shifted their gazes to Ashley, their expressions softening.

"What the hell did that crazy girl tell the young master this time?" Rum muttered before breaking into a smile. He huffed in relief. "Glad she’s back, though."

"Wooo!" He whistled, throwing his hands behind his head. "Now — back to unemployment!"

Everyone scoffed and laughed, though without any real displeasure. They might not say it aloud, but they were all relieved to see her back to her usual self and to see the home across from theirs come back to life.

They all sat quietly, taking in how strangely normal the neighborhood felt again. All except Red, whose brows furrowed as he tilted his head to the side.

"Say..." he trailed off, turning to the others. "How the hell did she survive that long in the cargo?"

He turned specifically to Gin. "Did you say the orders I got earlier were hers?"

"Mhm." Gin nodded before shooting Rum and Vodka a look. "Even we were surprised."

Who wouldn’t be?

Ashley ordering them to give proper lodging to her abductors and premium treatment to Khan... that was no surprise. She looked exactly like the type to do something like that.

But her other order regarding the Mole Guy?

Gruesome.

"Hey." Rum tossed a small towel to Red, which the latter caught. He pointed at the man’s neck. "You’ve still got blood on you. Don’t you clean yourself up after butchering someone?"

Red didn’t answer. He wiped the remaining speck of blood from his neck.

"That guy was tough as steel. Clearly trained to keep his mouth shut even under torture."

Tank nodded slowly. He had assisted Red in interrogating the Mole Guy. The man hadn’t given them a single useful piece of information, but he had more than enough energy to get on their nerves.

He was practically dead before the order came.

"I’m asking because that Mole Guy gave me a serious headache," Red said, lifting his shirt to reveal a bandage on his side. "He almost cut me in half with an ax he pulled out of nowhere."

He looked at the other four.

"I’m saying — if that guy held his ground against me, it makes no sense that she even survived against those people."

From what he’d heard, the Mole Guy wasn’t the only one. There was also the other guy — Carrotman — and then whoever was said to be the leader of the group.

Vodka and Gin hadn’t been in the field; they’d been left behind. So they had no idea about the full situation. Red and Rum had been too busy fighting to keep track. Besides, they were on the ground while Ashley was on top of the cargo.

From Red and Rum’s perspective, even when Ashley jumped to the crane’s hook, it had looked like she was simply firing randomly. She had even nearly shot Red, and he would never forget that.

In the end, they all turned to Tank, who had an aerial view of the entire scene.

Tank quietly bit his tongue and looked up as though trying to recall what had happened. The rest followed his gaze upward, as if that would somehow give them a glimpse into his thoughts.

When Tank finally looked at them, he opened his mouth, then closed it again with a shrug.

"God damn it!" Rum clicked his tongue, glaring at him. "Tank, use your mouth when it actually matters!"

But none of them pushed further. They already knew it would be a waste of energy. Tank spoke when he wanted to, and he wouldn’t when he didn’t.

"Maybe it’s thanks to that guy Rus," Vodka hummed, and the rest nodded. "Still, it’s not over yet."

He raised a brow and glanced around at them.

"We still have no idea who orchestrated all of this. Whether we admit it or not, that tracker helped us a lot."

Without it, they wouldn’t have retrieved Ashley so quickly. But it wasn’t just about that. It was about the level of sophistication behind the entire operation.

"We’ll find out soon enough," Gin said with a shrug. "Master said to be creative with the guy’s pieces. So we’re all just waiting for the rat to take the bait."

*****

Meanwhile, at a fish port somewhere else in the world, a crowd had gathered around a cordoned-off area as police worked to seal it off.

They had found a human arm.

Nothing else — so officers were still combing through the water and the surrounding area for other remains. While the crowd pressed in to get a look, one person stood motionless among them.

Carrotman stared at the shape hidden beneath a blanket.

When a harsh gust of wind swept through the area, the blanket flew off.

Gasps and shrieks erupted from the crowd, while Carrotman remained still, his eyes fixed on the exposed severed arm the police scrambled to cover.

He recognized the tattoo.

And the coordinates were carved into the skin.

"Hah," he scoffed, turning on his heel, his eyes glinting dangerously. As he walked away, he pulled out his phone and said,

"Dominion wants us to retrieve his other pieces. Different location. I’ve got the next one."