Red turned to Revelation, who was pounding her fist into the punching bag like it had personally wronged her. Each blow landed with brutal force, as if she had some deep, unresolved beef with it.
Pulling the cigar from her mouth, Red exhaled slowly, letting smoke curl into the air as she watched her daughter. She didn't speak—of course she knew what was wrong. But something else was swirling in her head, something she couldn't shake.
It was the difference between her daughters.
Her lips curled faintly, remembering the moment she finally saw Genesis after twenty-three long years. It had taken everything not to reach out and grab her right then and there. Just thinking about it now made her chest tighten painfully.
And as for that difference… it was clear as day. Revelation was like Eve—born to fight, to challenge. And Genesis? She was like dawn—quiet, soft, but with a light you couldn't ignore. Even in her unsure, uncertain posture, there was no fear. That surprised Red more than anything.
She wasn't afraid of her husband like she had expected.
Red's mind drifted back to that doctor's office. The man's presence had been undeniable. When she'd walked out and turned for one last look at Genesis, she'd expected to see those wide, beautiful green eyes.
Instead, she'd been met with a cold, smirking pair of icy blue ones.
A chill had run through her—not fear exactly. Red didn't fear anyone. But even the fiercest people had a sense, a radar, for dangerous men. And that man? He lit it up.
What made it even more fascinating was that he wasn't part of any known mafia organization. Not like the Marchetti family, or the Bratva brothers. He didn't have an official crime ring, but people still knew the name Knight even the big names in the game knew him.
Red shook those thoughts away. This wasn't the time for distractions.
She was getting her daughter back.
"Ahhhhh!" Revelation shouted, flipping and kicking the punching bag so hard it snapped off its hook and crashed to the floor.
Red stood from the bench, brushing cigar ash off her jeans.
She gave a dry chuckle. "Mija, what'd that poor bag ever do to you, huh?"
Revelation stood there, breathing hard. Chest heaving. She wiped sweat from her brow with her sleeve and glanced down at the bag now slumped on the ground.
"Tch. That's not even a real bag anymore," she muttered. "It was askin' for it."
Red laughed low and took another long drag. Smoke wrapped around her face as she eyed her daughter.
"You mad or what?" she asked, voice calm. "I seen you beat things up before, pero not like this."
Revelation dropped onto the bench beside her, still burning from the inside out.
"Something's not sittin' right with me, Mama," she said tightly. "Knight didn't take the bait. He didn't go after Takeshi. And now? Takeshi's back in the U.S. like nothin' happened."
Red arched a brow but stayed quiet.
"And Genesis…" Revelation clenched her fist, slamming it into her palm. "She's still there. Still with him. The puta plan was to get her out the moment Knight left!"
Red leaned back slowly, resting one boot on the bench's edge. "But he didn't go."
"No," Revelation snapped. "He didn't. That maldito cabrón is too smart. He's waitin'. Watchin'. Playing some slow-ass game I don't understand."
Red blew out smoke and shrugged. "He's got angels crawling all over that house, mija. Can you really go in and pull her out? You think those girls gonna let you walk in like it's your place?"
Revelation scoffed, eyes rolling. "Please. I can take a bunch of silly girls."
Red chuckled, smoke puffing from her nose. "That confidence, mi reina—I like it. Just don't let it kill you."
Revelation stood again, hands on her hips. "I just need one opening. One."
Red watched her—her blood, her fire. Then her expression softened, just a little.
"Mi hija... remember something," she said gently. "Genesis isn't you. Don't expect her to move like you. Don't expect her to want to leave."
Revelation's jaw tightened. "Then I'll carry her if I have to."
Red gave a slow nod. "Good. That's the spirit. You better—before that man swallows her whole."
Later…
"Ahhh, Mama… when are we gonna deal with this bitch?" Revelation said, turning from the window. She'd been watching Monica and her son get out of a car right in front of Takeshi's house.
Red lounged on the plush chair, face unreadable.
Revelation narrowed her eyes. "Mama?"
Slowly, Red turned her head. "She's stronger than she seems."
Rev frowned. "Huh? Who? Don't tell me you're talkin' about that weak-willed bitch—"
Red laughed. "No, mija. I mean your sister. She finally sent them out of that house and took over everything. She's indeed my daughter."
Rev didn't say a word. She simply turned back to the window, watching as Jimmy and Mark took their bags and shut the car door.
Red looked away and leaned toward the driver. "Conduce despacio sobre ellos," she said calmly.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, gave a small nod, then started the engine. Just as the car that had dropped off Monica and her son pulled away, their own car began to move—slowly following the same path.
Red's gaze didn't waver. She watched Monica chat with her son through the window. Though their car was backing away, Monica somehow noticed it.
Red lowered the window slightly, her dark glasses in place, a quiet smile curving her lips. As the car rolled forward, Monica's eyes flicked toward it—instinctive, sharp—and her heart almost stopped.
Even with the glasses, she'd always recognize that face.
Her mouth fell open. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the ground.
Red smirked and rolled the window up without a word. The car sped off just as Monica's sons turned, confused.
"Mom, what's wrong?" one of them asked, rushing toward her.
Monica's chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked up at her sons with panic in her eyes.
"She's back," she whispered. "And she's going to kill me."