A younger Kidd Al Batris and his wife rushed back home, terror and dread etched across their faces. Kidd was seconds away from pulling the trigger on the head servant—until his gaze fell upon his nine-year-old daughter.

She stood there, clutching her baby brother in her arms. Her face was smeared with blood, her once-blue dress now stained with crimson patches. Her striking blue eyes were dark, her lips pressed together as she bit down in silent restraint.

The couple froze in horror. Slowly, they stepped toward their daughter, who spoke in an eerily calm voice.

"My brother's foot is hurt," she said, tilting her head slightly before continuing, "And none of them told me the truth about who the culprit was."

The nine-year-old Aurora took a step closer, pointing to a small scratch on her little brother’s leg. The boy clung tightly to his sister, his tiny fingers tangled in her blood-streaked hair.

Then, silent tears began to roll down Aurora's cheeks.

"So... I killed them all."

Both parents stood paralyzed, her words sending a chill down their spines.

Kidd was the first to move. He reached out, gently resting a hand on his daughter’s head. "You did well protecting your brother," he murmured.

Her mother wiped the blood from Aurora’s face, her fingers trembling as she brushed away her daughter’s tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Overwhelmed by fear and sorrow, they embraced their children tightly, clinging to them as if trying to shield them from the truth that had already sunk too deep.

Outside, in the garden, the evidence of the massacre lay in gruesome heaps—piles of lifeless bodies, arranged so precisely that neither parent dared to ask who had gathered them like that.

Then, their daughter’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and suffocating.

"Clean up the garden. I don’t want my brother to get dirty."

The weight of her words sent a shiver through both parents.

Their nine-year-old daughter had just commanded an execution.

At present, as Mr. Kidd and his wife continue watching the broadcast, Joseph races on his bike toward the hotel where the filming is taking place. Meanwhile, Victor has already arrived and waits for Joseph so they can enter together.

Joseph reaches the hotel entrance just as Victor steps out of his car, spotting his nephew’s bike. Their arrival coincides with that of the Salvadores. Standing beside Joseph, Victor hears him mutter darkly, "She wouldn’t be reckless enough to start a war… right?" His gaze remains fixed on his uncle, who only responds with a grim expression, "Don’t you know her?"

Without another word, they move forward as Emmanuel and Lucas enter the hotel, their faces tense. The four of them step into the elevator together, an unsettling silence hanging between them.

Meanwhile, at the filming location, Aurora appears completely entertained by Lynn’s story about her experience with love. No, not just her—Hector is just as engrossed. Away from the world of crime, this was something neither of them knew much about, something they had never tasted or experienced.

As Lynn continues speaking, Aurora senses her brother’s presence even before he and the others arrive. At that exact moment, filming comes to a halt. Aurora stands effortlessly, motioning for Baron to come closer. He hesitates, fear gripping his body, but ultimately obeys. When he reaches her, she extends her hand for him to take.

As he does, she leans in and whispers, "If they take even a single step forward, not a single soul will leave this place alive."

Then, she smiles at him and turns to Lynn, cheerfully saying, "Would you mind helping me? I seem to have forgotten how to walk in heels again."

Just like that, Baron vanishes from sight.

A moment later, Victor receives a text from Baron:
"If you take a single step, no one will leave here alive."

It arrives precisely as the elevator stops on the seventh floor. Victor wipes a hand over his forehead and turns to Joseph. "We’re leaving," he says.

Emmanuel and Lucas exchange confused looks.

Joseph swears under his breath. "Her instincts are sharp… damn it."

They don’t step out of the elevator. Instead, Victor mutters, "If we move forward, everyone dies. We’re going back. I don’t like letting her run wild, but your son is the reason this is happening today."

With that, he and Joseph turn back, leaving the Salvadores frozen in place on the seventh floor.

"Damn it," Emmanuel mutters, fists clenched. "That brat…" Then, with a sigh, he adds, "I’m leaving. Keep a close eye on things."

He storms off, leaving Lucas behind.

As soon as Emmanuel disappears from view, Lucas steels himself and steps toward the filming set. The moment he enters, his gaze locks onto Aurora’s mischievous eyes from across the room.

From a distance, she shapes her lips into a silent, mocking whisper—"Shoot."

Then, without a second glance, she turns her attention back to Lynn and Sid, leaving Lucas frozen, unsure of what to do.

Lucas quickly regained his breath and turned toward Hector, who was beginning to suspect something. His gaze flickered between Aurora, Baron, and finally, Lucas, before he asked, "Why is he here? Did something happen?"

Stepping toward Lucas, Hector pressed, "What's going on?"

Lucas hesitated for a moment before locking eyes with him and saying, "Ah... I came here with your father, but he suddenly changed his mind and left without explaining anything."

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

"My father?" Hector echoed, glancing around the room, his expression darkening. After a moment of silence, he finally said, "Alright… look into her."

He gestured toward Aurora, who appeared utterly unaware of their conversation.

Lucas hesitated. "Young master… what exactly do you want me to find out about her?"

"I don’t know," Hector muttered. "She’s just... suspicious."

With that, he strode out of the room, Lucas following beside him, their conversation fading into the distance.

Meanwhile, Aurora approached Baron, whose body was still trembling with fear. Gently, she placed a hand on his arm and spoke in a calm, almost soothing voice.

"It’s exactly seven o’clock now," she said. "You have until eight. I want their bodies on the floor in that room."

She pointed toward the dressing room.

Baron remained motionless, absorbing her words, his breathing shallow.

"And after that," she continued, her tone unwavering, "we’ll go home together."

With that, she turned and walked away, heading toward her room without looking back.

Left alone, Baron whispered to himself, his voice barely above a breath.

"How many...? I don’t remember... One hour..."

Sweat beaded on his forehead as his hands trembled.

"A weapon..." He scanned his surroundings frantically, muttering under his breath.

"I have to survive… one hour… or else—"

Without another word, he took off in an uncertain direction, racing against time in a desperate fight for survival.