Chapter 169 Back From The Dead II

"Stop the car."

Liam’s voice cut through the quiet tension like a blade. Lilith blinked, caught off guard, her hands tightening instinctively around the wheel.

"We’re not there yet," she said with a furrowed brow, eyes flicking toward him. "The meeting point is still five minutes ahead."

"I know," Liam replied, already reaching for the door handle. "I want to do a sweep. Just to be sure we’re not walking into something unexpected."

Lilith’s lips parted, a hint of protest forming, but the words caught in her throat as the door popped open and cold night air flooded into the car. Liam didn’t even look back. His form slipped into the darkness, his lean silhouette swallowed by the quiet, sleeping neighborhood.

Lilith quickly pressed the brakes and let the engine idle, watching the spot where he vanished. A sigh left her lips—not of irritation, but worry. She didn’t like this. Not because she didn’t trust him—she did—but because a part of her wanted him close. Especially tonight.

"Stubborn bastard," she muttered under her breath, and pressed the pedal again.

---

The road ahead was narrow and quiet, the kind of suburban stretch where people turned off their porch lights early and left their windows cracked open to let in the breeze. Nothing unusual. Nothing suspicious. In fact, it was... shockingly ordinary.

Which made the meeting location even more strange.

When Lilith arrived, her brows lifted.

The Boss had chosen a point dead center on a residential street—no alleyways, no warehouses, not even a gas station nearby. Just a straight stretch of road lined with sleeping houses, glowing streetlights, and silence.

A smirk tugged at Lilith’s lips.

"Maybe Liam was wrong after all," she murmured to herself as she parked beside the curb. "No surprises here. No one would be stupid enough to pull anything in a place like this."

She glanced around one more time and stepped out of the car. The cool breeze brushed past her bare legs—toned and long beneath the short, sharp edge of her black coat. She walked to the front of the vehicle, heels softly tapping on the concrete, then leaned against the hood and crossed her legs, waiting.

A moment passed. Then another.

And then—the low, rumbling purr of a V8 engine reached her ears.

It was smooth, but powerful. Whoever was driving it knew how to keep it steady, unthreatening. Lilith turned her head slowly as a sleek black muscle car rolled up the street toward her. It wasn’t speeding. In fact, it moved gently, respectfully, as if aware it was cruising through someone’s sleeping neighborhood.

The car pulled up a few meters in front of her and slowed to a complete stop. For a second, the bright headlights hit her face directly. She lifted a hand and shielded her eyes with a quiet scowl.

Then the headlights clicked off.

The only illumination left came from the lonely streetlamps above, casting silver shadows across the road.

Lilith dropped her hand and straightened up, her sharp eyes narrowing as the driver’s door opened.

The Boss stepped out.

Broad-shouldered, wearing his usual pristine white suit. Cold eyes. That same slick, fake confident aura that never seemed to change no matter the hour. But it was the figure that followed him out of the passenger seat that caught Lilith’s attention.

She didn’t recognize him.

A tall, lean man, slightly younger, dressed in a fitted dark suit with gloves on his hands and his collar buttoned up to the throat. His hair was neatly combed, glasses sat low on his nose, and his expression was unreadable—blank, almost coldly academic.

Lilith’s eyes narrowed slightly.

She didn’t know who he was.

But she didn’t care either.

Her focus was on the meeting. Whatever proposal the Boss had come here to present—it better be worth her time.

She crossed her arms and stood her ground as they approached.

A soft clap echoed into the stillness of the night.

Boss stepped forward, white suit gleaming under the streetlight as he slowly brought his hands together with quiet applause, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I must admit," he said, his voice like silk brushing over a blade, "I didn’t actually think you’d come."

Lilith didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained sharp, her arms still crossed over her chest as she leaned coolly against the hood of her car.

"Cut the bullshit," she said flatly. "Say what you came to say."

The man let out a breath, chuckling lightly as if her words didn’t sting. He cleared his throat, straightened the cuff of his sleeve, and gestured idly with one hand. "Alright then," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I want to end the war."

For a second, there was silence. Just the distant rustle of trees in the breeze. Then—

Lilith threw her head back and laughed.

Not a small chuckle.

A full, unrestrained burst of laughter that spilled from her mouth and echoed down the quiet street, catching even the stranger beside Boss off guard. She laughed until her stomach ached, until she had to lean slightly harder against the car for balance.

"You—" she said, breathless, wiping at a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye. "You want to end the war? You?" Her voice was thick with mockery. "Now that you’ve got the Golden Bird backing you, you suddenly grew a conscience?"

Boss’s fake smile didn’t waver, but the flicker of annoyance behind his eyes was impossible to miss.

"Let’s be clear," Lilith continued, her voice cold and sharp again, "The Golden Bird isn’t some nobody. He’s one of the top five underground lords. And he’s been arming you for months. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe you suddenly care about peace?"

Boss shook his head slowly, almost like a patient teacher with a particularly stubborn student. His expression didn’t shift, that rehearsed confidence still draped over him like armor.

"I’m not denying the Golden Bird’s support," he said. "But who’s dying, Lilith?" He stepped forward, one hand slipping into the pocket of his coat. "Mine. My men. They’re the ones bleeding. All the Golden Bird does is supply weapons. We still have to carry them. We still have to fight. We’re the ones burying brothers week after week."

Lilith’s eyes narrowed, her brows furrowing slightly.

She didn’t respond right away. She watched him in silence, studying his stance, his tone, every word. Her instincts screamed at her not to trust him—but his words weren’t entirely wrong either. Her mind began to tick, calculating... analyzing.

Was he actually serious?

Did Boss—the arrogant, ruthless head of the Crimson Hand—really want to end the war?

She didn’t say anything.

She didn’t have to.

The look on her face told Boss everything he needed to know.

She was thinking.

And that was his opening.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice now, giving it a more intimate edge, as if they were old friends sharing scars.

"We’ve all lost something in this war," he said gently. "I lost Khan..."

His voice dipped.

Then he looked her directly in the eye.

"And you lost Liam."

Her insides twisted violently.

But her face? Her face didn’t move an inch.

No flicker of emotion. No crack in her mask. Just those cold, feline-like eyes locked onto his, as if she hadn’t heard what he said at all.

But inside—inside she wanted to rip his throat out.

Boss didn’t know.

He had no idea Liam was alive.

No one did.

Only her. Lana. And Vanessa.

And that meant only one thing—he was involved.

He had something to do with the attack on Liam.

That night—seven days ago—the brutal assault that nearly ended his life... Boss had a hand in it.

Her hands, still crossed over her chest, tightened slightly, nails digging into her sleeves.

Lilith’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper.

"Did you kill Liam?"

Her tone was hollow, emotionless, like a tombstone carved from ice.

Boss blinked, caught off guard for the briefest moment, but quickly replaced it with a somber look. He tilted his head slightly, that mock sympathy creeping into his voice.

"I had no choice."

Inside, he was laughing.

He could hardly believe it worked.

He assumed she’d retaliate, threaten him, maybe even shoot him—he expected fire. Not coldness. Not this eerie calm. And most importantly... not a complete absence of suspicion.

Lilith didn’t blink. She didn’t move.

But in her mind, a fire had started.

And it was spreading fast.

She had her answer.

The Crimson Hand had tried to take Liam from her.

They failed.