Dark Planning

The dimly lit room, lined with velvet drapes and the subtle flicker of candles, felt suffocating despite its lavish decor. Black Rose's estate always had an air of darkness to it, a blend of elegance and danger, much like the woman herself. She sat at the head of the long table, drumming her slender fingers against the polished wood, her face an unreadable mask. Across from her, Lark paced back and forth, his movements sharp with agitation, his boots striking the floor with a rhythm that mirrored his growing frustration.

"This didn't go as planned," Lark hissed, his voice low but biting. "We should've pinned the blame on Grey. The whole damn operation was set up perfectly, and yet here we are. Gwen's dead, and no one's pointing the finger at him. We've lost a major piece of leverage, and all we got is more mess to clean up."

Black Rose remained composed, her eyes following Lark's movements but betraying little emotion. "Patience, Lark. You're far too impatient," she said, her voice smooth, almost mocking. "One failed attempt doesn't spell the end of our plans."

"Patience?!" Lark stopped pacing and turned toward her, his expression hardening. "We could've had Aurora strike at Grey, make it look like his people were turning against him. That would've caused chaos. Instead, we're stuck in the same place, and Grey's on edge now. If we'd done this right, he'd be scrambling to control his people."

Black Rose waved her hand dismissively. "And yet he isn't. Aurora didn't take the bait, but that doesn't mean we're finished. You need to stop obsessing over what went wrong. Our real game is far from over."

Lark let out a frustrated sigh and dropped into a chair, raking a hand through his dishevelled hair. "You're too calm about this," he muttered. "Grey's stronger than ever, and we've lost ground. If we don't make a move soon, he's going to retaliate and we won't be ready."

Black Rose leaned back in her chair, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I told you, Lark. We need to wait for the right moment. The iron is at the edge of being hot to be moulded. When it is, we'll strike and it'll be decisive."

Before Lark could respond, the door to the room creaked open. Andrew stepped in, his expression neutral, though there was a trace of tension in his movements. He was dressed in his usual tailored suit, but there was a weariness about him as if he'd just returned from a battlefield. His eyes flicked between Black Rose and Lark before he gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Andrew," Black Rose purred, "I was just wondering when you'd show up."

Andrew took a seat at the table, his gaze shifting briefly to Lark's brooding figure before returning to Black Rose. "You asked me to keep an eye on Grey's state of mind. He's... not in a good place."

Black Rose arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And what did you find?"

Andrew hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Emotionally, he's wrecked. Gwen's death hit him hard, and he's been drinking more than usual. But he's unpredictable right now. I can't say for sure what he's planning."

Lark leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You mean to tell me you couldn't get anything useful out of him? He didn't mention any of his next moves?"

Andrew shook his head. "No. He's keeping everything close to his chest. Whatever he's planning, it's buried deep. But... there's a sense that he's about to snap. He's angry, and when he acts, it'll be violent."

Lark's jaw tightened. "Damn it. If he's about to go on a rampage, we need to know. We can't just sit here and wait for him to make the first move. Did he did he say anything about suspecting you, Andrew? About knowing you're in on this?"

Andrew's gaze darkened, but he shook his head again. "No. He doesn't suspect me. Not yet, at least."

Lark's relief was palpable, but it was short-lived as his thoughts drifted to another unresolved matter. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. "What about my brother? Have you heard anything?"

Andrew's eyes shifted, the tension in the room growing thicker. "Nothing. Your brother's been keeping his distance, but it won't last. Sooner or later, he'll come looking for you."

Lark's lips curled into a sneer. "If he doesn't surrender... I'll get rid of him."

The words hung in the air, cold and final. Andrew exchanged a glance with Black Rose, who raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. Something was unsettling in Lark's tone an edge of ruthlessness that went beyond ambition. It was the voice of a man who had long since abandoned any notion of loyalty or family. His thirst for power had consumed him, and now, even blood ties were disposable.

"You'd kill your brother?" Andrew asked, his voice low, though there was a sound of disbelief.

Lark turned to him, his expression unreadable. "If he stands in my way, I will. He knows what's at stake, and if he's too blind to see it, that's on him. I'm not letting anyone stop me from taking Grey down. Not even him."

Andrew said nothing, but the tension in the room was palpable. Even Black Rose seemed to study Lark more closely now, her eyes narrowing just slightly. There was no doubt that Lark had crossed a line in his mind a line that even the most ruthless in their world often hesitated to cross. But for him, it was simple. He would do whatever it took, no matter the cost.

Black Rose broke the silence, her voice as smooth and measured as ever. "When the iron is hot, Lark," she said softly, "you can mould it into any shape you desire. But strike too soon, and you risk shattering it. Timing is everything."

Lark's eyes flicked toward her, his frustration simmering just below the surface. "And when exactly do you think the right time will be? Grey's not going to wait for us to make a move."

Black Rose smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "When Grey's rage blinds him to the truth. When he can no longer tell friends from foe. That's when we'll strike. He's on the edge now... all we need to do is push him over."

Andrew remained silent, his mind racing with the implications of their conversation. Grey, for all his power, was on the verge of losing control. And Lark Lark was more dangerous than any of them had anticipated. His willingness to eliminate anyone, even his brother, sent a chill through Andrew's spine.

"Are you sure you're ready for what's coming, Lark?" Andrew asked, his voice steady but laced with caution. "Once we start this, there's no going back. Grey won't stop until one of us is dead."

Lark's eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity. "I've been ready for this from the beginning, Andrew. I'm not afraid of Grey or anyone else. When the time comes, I'll do whatever it takes."

Black Rose's gaze shifted between the two men, her smile growing slightly. "Good," she purred. "Because when the time comes, I expect both of you to be ready. Grey's rage is our greatest weapon... and soon enough, we'll use it to destroy him."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their plans settling over the room like a dark cloud. Outside, the moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the estate.

Andrew glanced toward the window, his thoughts far from the sumptuous surroundings. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing with fire that could consume them all if they weren't careful. But there was no turning back now.

And somewhere out there, Grey was preparing for his war.

***