Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

He finally turned fully toward her. "I already forgave you, Annabelle. Doesn't mean I'm handing out hugs and kumbayas. But what you just said? That's real."

She blinked. "You're serious?"

He nodded. "You're not the same girl who once kicked me in the ribs to prove your side when your brother ordered it."

That made her flinch. He noticed. But she didn't look away.

"I'm not gonna pretend the punishment didn't happen," he said gently. "Because it needed to. But I can tell when someone's trying to claw their way into being better."

She swallowed, suddenly small under the moon. "It was the only way I knew how to keep breathing through all the lies. Bullying you… mocking you... it kept me from hating myself."

He smiled—not cruelly. But like someone who understood. "And now?"

She sighed. "Now I'm standing on a rooftop trying to be one of the good ones again. Which is ridiculous because I don't even know what that means."

"It means you're trying. That's more than most. Don't look for another meaning out of it. That much is enough as it is."

They stood there in silence again. A long breath of it. Comfortable. Strange.

Parker tapped the railing, thoughtful. "That was… remarkably human of you." His gaze drifted to the city. "Look, I meant what I said: debt settled. I punished, you endured, we move. But owning your mess out loud? That takes guts. Respect."

A laugh sputtered out of her—part relief, part disbelief. "Don't make it weird, jefe."

He smirked. "Weird is my brand."

Silence settled, but this time it felt lighter—like the rooftop could actually hold it without cracking. A passing plane blinked overhead: Annabelle tracked it with one finger, drew a lazy rune in the air, set the lanterns to mirror the same blinking pattern.

She looked at him sidelong. "If I keep groveling up here, can I maybe buy some bonus points toward being seen like… Evelyn or Maya?"

He laughed. "Told ya, be Annabelle. Not Evelyn-lite. I remember you before all this mess. So, start there."

Her eyes shimmered. Not tears. Just reflection. She nodded.

"Okay," she whispered. "Then I'll start here. With the truth. And the wind. And that creepy rooftop memory of mine."

"I'm never letting you live that down," he smirked.

"Fair," she grinned. "Creepy bitch forever."

He turned to go but paused at the door.

"Family," he said over his shoulder. "You said it back there."

"Yeah?"

"Act like it. Then we're good."

She glanced at him. "Sky's nice tonight."

"So are second chances," he replied. "Reminds me why I fix Earth. Earth looks better lit."

She rolled her eyes affectionately. "Such a nerd."

"Guilty." He nudged her shoulder. "You heading back down?"

"In a sec. Gotta let the wind untangle my hair, so I look freshly tortured when I reappear." She tucked the lily tighter behind her ear. "Thanks for listening. And… for catching me when I kick my own ego over the edge."

Parker grinned. "Anytime. Just try not to punt any more heirs. Aftermath's a nightmare."

"No promises," she sang, but the weight in her chest was gone.

He headed for the stairwell, paused, gave her a salute made of two fingers and too much swagger. "Night, hurricane."

"Night, Earth‑builder."

When he disappeared, the wind kept her company. She twirled once—cheesy, cliché, whatever—and for the first time since forever, the sky felt like it was big enough to keep her secrets and small enough to care about them.

Annabelle (Voidhowl) Blackwood leaned on the railing, toes curled over the edge, and watched the stars flicker like they were clapping for her finally getting something right.

Apart from Maya and Evelyn, Annabelle didn't exactly have what you'd call a reliable friend circle. Not really. Not anymore.

And it wasn't like she hadn't tried—or okay, fine, half-tried—but ever since Parker bulldozed his way back into their lives with cosmic authority and reality-warping precision, her world had gotten real crowded, real fast. New people. New loyalties. New hierarchies. Everyone orbiting him like he was the sun and they were trying not to burn.

It was hard. Like, actually hard.

Making friends in the middle of that chaos? Felt like showing up to a group chat five years late and trying to catch the inside jokes.

So she did what she always did. She hid it. Buried the ache under eyeliner and perfectly timed insults. Let people see what they expected—a spoiled princess with a sharp mouth and no real depth.

Meanwhile?

Evelyn was busy helping her baby sister and adjusting to the fact she was more than just an elf and more than what she thought. Bella barely left Parker's side these days—clinging to him like he was the last familiar thing in a world that'd flipped upside down.

And Maya? Maya had Parker. And Zhang Ruoyun. And her best-friend-who-was-also-her-freaking-husband. A whole epic of a love story Annabelle couldn't even begin to compete with.

So yeah, Annabelle was lonely. Quietly. Privately. Deeply.

Not that she'd ever say it out loud.

Not that anyone would ever guess.

Because loneliness wore a damn good pair of heels and could fake a laugh better than most actresses.

But sometimes…

Sometimes it slipped.

In her eyes. In her silence.

In the way she lingered in empty gardens after the music died down.

She stayed there a little longer than she meant to, watching the stars, pretending she wasn't freezing a little in that backless dress. The garden and the rooftop had gone quiet. Even the wind seemed to respect her solitude, brushing past her bare shoulders like a ghost too polite to stay.

But eventually, with a sigh and a roll of her neck, Annabelle turned toward the mansion. Her heels clicked softly against the garden stones, each step echoing louder now that she was alone.

Then—

A flash.

No, not lightning. Not magic. Speed.

Something blue tore across the far end of the estate grounds—fast as sin, silent as a whisper. A streak of lightning brilliance arcing low over the trees, gone before she could blink twice.

"What the…" she muttered, head snapping toward it.

And then she saw the second one.

Not a flash. A shadow.

Tall. Wrong. Half-there and half-not, like it was being stitched together from nightmares and smoke. Just… watching. Not close. Not doing anything. But she could feel its presence like cold breath on her skin.

Her heart gave one hard thump. And then—gone. Both of them.

No trace. No ripple. Just night again.

Annabelle stood still for a few seconds longer, lips slightly parted, the silence pressing in.

"…Okay, what the fuck was that."

Her fingers twitched, a faint pulse of magic brushing over her knuckles like instinct wanted to fight but didn't know what. She glanced once more into the darkness, saw nothing, and finally turned for the doors.

"Definitely not telling Helena about that," she muttered under her breath. "She'd bring the sword and a full damn thesis."

She pushed open the side door to the Wilder mansion, letting warmth and light spill out to meet her, but her mind didn't follow.

The stars outside felt different now.

Like something had just looked back.

A/N: Check out my other book!