You can kill the body.
You can cage the loyal.
But you can’t bury vengeance — not if it knows your name.
They came just after 3 a.m.
No sirens. No shouting.
No warning.
Six black SUVs. Silenced weapons.
No badges. No insignias.
This wasn’t law enforcement.
This was erasure.
Inside the safehouse, Eve already had her coat on.
Marco was bleeding from a split lip — not hers, not theirs. His own.
From hitting the wall after realizing this was his fault.
“You need to go,” he said.
Eve didn’t look at him. She was packing a drive, not her things.
“No. You do,” she said quietly.
Marco shook his head. “I won’t leave you.”
“You have to. They want me. Not you.”
He stepped in her way. “Doesn’t matter.”
She met his eyes — and did something she never did.
She touched his face. Softly. Like a goodbye.
“Then make them think they got me.”
The breach was surgical.
One team hit the ground floor.
Another swept the perimeter.
The last breached the top floor where Eve’s signal had last pinged.
They found a body.
Female. Bullet through the temple. Burn marks from a small explosion.
The face was half gone.
The DNA would match.
It always did when the Queen wanted it to.
Nathan got the call while driving west.
Harper’s voice came over encrypted comms.
“She’s dead. We confirmed the body.”
But Nathan didn’t believe it.
Because the message waiting on his burner phone said otherwise:
“You’re not finished. They’re coming for you too.
— E”
That’s when the SUV started tailing him.
And Nathan realized:
They weren’t tying off loose ends.
They were torching everything.
Marco was arrested in a Midtown subway station.
No fight. No protest.
He went quietly, eyes blank.
The world would see him as the fallen second-in-command.
The loyal dog of a dead woman.
And he let them.
Because he knew something they didn’t.
She wasn’t dead.
She was fire in the wind.
And the people who set this storm in motion…
They didn’t kill Eve.
They woke her.
Harper vanished a week later.
No goodbye. No trace.
Her apartment: emptied.
Her files: burned.
Her name: erased from every list she’d ever been on.
Some said she fled to Europe.
Others said she never existed at all.
But Nathan found a flash drive under his windshield wiper the next morning.
On it:
A video feed.
One minute long.
Eve. Alive. Somewhere dark.
Saying one sentence:
“They think they ended the game.
Let’s show them the board was mine all along.”
A year passed.
The criminal underworld reshuffled.
Old empires fell. New names rose.
But whispers filled the void.
Whispers of a woman no one ever saw, but everyone feared.
A woman who had once worn the world’s blind spot like armor.
And was now hunting the ones who’d tried to take her crown.
Baawa Unfiltered 