Power plays

Lisa was still rifling through her closet, clothes flying over her shoulder one after the other. “Ugh,” she muttered. “Too long. Too plain. Too… bleh.” Nothing felt right. Nothing looked like her. Every dress seemed either outdated or designed to make her feel like a grandmother. She sat on the edge of the bed, frustrated and glaring at the mountain of rejects.

A knock at the door startled her. Lisa stood up and opened it to find a maid standing there with a small, beautifully wrapped package.

“You got a package, Miss. From Sir Ivan,” the maid said politely.

Lisa blinked. “From… Ivan?”

She took it slowly, her brows lifting with curiosity. Once the maid left, she sat down and peeled it open.

Inside was a neatly folded pink dress—soft, delicate, and stylish. The fabric shimmered subtly, trimmed with lace at the sleeves and hem. Baby-pink bows were stitched into the design, and there was a handwritten note tucked inside:

For my little bunny. Don’t keep me waiting. —Ivan

Lisa couldn’t help but smile, her frustration dissolving. The dress felt like sunshine—girly but elegant, and when she slipped it on, she was surprised by how perfectly it fit. It hugged her slim figure just enough to accentuate her shape, and when she looked in the mirror, she saw someone glowing back—cute, radiant, and effortlessly beautiful.

Grabbing her bag, Lisa exited through a quieter passage leading toward the estate’s outer grounds. A few guards spotted her but quickly looked away. Everyone knew better than to question Ivan’s business. Stopping her was as good as signing your own death certificate.

She waited just outside the estate gates until a sleek Aston Martin Valour pulled up in front of her. Her brows lifted slightly in surprise—of course he’d show up in something dramatic.

The chauffeur stepped out and opened the door. Lisa climbed in, only to be met with a wave of cool cologne and velvet silence. Ivan sat there, relaxed, wearing a stylish dark wool stole over his suit. Not too flashy—just dangerously elegant.

He looks… hot, she thought involuntarily. Oh God. Stop it, Lisa Park. Don’t lose your brain now.

He didn’t say a word—just had that signature smirk on his lips, swirling a lollipop in his mouth like a villain in a drama.

“Little bunny is sizzling today,” he murmured. Her cheeks flushed.

“How did you know my size?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He chuckled. “Do you really have to ask that? I know everything about you.”

The car roared to life, city lights blurring past as the chauffeur sped through the streets. Lisa blinked innocently. “Are we going to a club or something?”

Ivan glanced sideways. “That’s a surprise.”

She pouted. “You’re so dramatic.”

He just smirked again, but this time a message popped up on his phone. His face darkened momentarily, the smile fading into something sharper. Lisa noticed but said nothing. That look in his eyes? Dangerous. Calculating.

But moments later, the car pulled into a large, glowing building that looked like part high-end boutique, part luxury restaurant. Soft jazz spilled out from the glass doors, and elegant signage hung above.

The chauffeur opened their doors, and Lisa stepped out, eyes widening.

“Holy crap…” she whispered. It was stunning.

Twinkling lights lined the rooftop, with a glass entrance that sparkled under moonlight. A mix of scent—grilled meat, floral perfumes, rich spices—danced in the air. She barely left the estate, and this… this felt like freedom. New air. New life.

Before she could take another step, staff members rushed out, bowing deeply. You’d think a royal had just arrived.

Ivan held her hand and led her through the main entrance, the crowd parting like water. Inside, they were met by a stunning Asian woman dressed in chic monochrome. She looked around Lisa’s age.

“Ivan! You're here today?” she said, smiling. “And… is this your girlfriend?”

She barely waited for Ivan to answer. “She’s Asian too? Are you Korean?”

Lisa brightened. “Yes! I’m Lisa Park from Daegu.”

The woman beamed. “What a coincidence. I’m from Busan! And your name—Lisa! Like BLACKPINK’s Lisa. She’s my favorite.”

“I love her too!” Lisa said, immediately clicking with her.

“I’m Han Minseo, the owner here,” she added, offering her hand warmly. Lisa took it, grinning.

Ivan casually slipped away from their bubble, muttering something under his breath. “So greedy.”

Minseo led Lisa into a VIP suite where a long table had already been set—ramyeon, kimchi, grilled short ribs, spicy rice cakes, and more. Korean dishes, real ones.

Lisa’s eyes nearly popped. “Is this for me?”

“We have more coming,” Minseo winked.

Lisa didn’t wait for Ivan. She plopped down and dug in, stuffing her cheeks adorably full, sauce staining the corners of her lips.

Ivan leaned against the wall, watching her quietly.

Cute bunny, he thought. But then another message flashed across his screen, and this time, he didn’t ignore it.

He straightened up.

“Duty calls,” he said lowly.

Lisa looked up, still chewing. “You’re leaving?”

He gave a crooked smirk and slipped out the door without answering.

She pouted, but her mouth was too full of home-cooked heaven to stay sad for long.

Meanwhile, across the estate, Avery shoved Kieran away and stormed toward the door. Malina again. That girl never gave her a break.

She opened it halfway, blocking the entrance with her shoulder.

“There’s a wives’ gathering tomorrow night,” Malina started. “You’ll need to be careful. Lilia’s got her eyes on you now. I think… you might be her main target.”

Avery cut her off. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. And maybe stop acting like we’re besties. It’s annoying.”

Her tone was blunt. Honest. Maybe too honest. But she didn’t care.

Before Malina could respond, Avery shut the door right in her face.

“She’s not my friend,” Avery muttered. “I only have one. Lisa.”

Turning back to the room, she noticed the bed was empty.

But a note lay where Kieran had been:

Meet me at the rusted training site behind the east greenhouse. Wear your fighting dress, stepmom.

Avery stared at it, her lips twitching into a grin.

“He finally agreed to train me,” she whispered, heart fluttering. “Such a dickface.”

And with that, she flopped onto the bed, a smile still lingering as she drifted into sleep.

*

The next day, Avery woke up earlier than usual. Her mind was sharp, focused. She reached for her best fighting outfit: a sleek black dress — short enough for agility, tight enough not to flap — paired with combat boots and silver hoop earrings she slipped into her piercings. Her rose tattoo peeked through the neckline, its thorny vines wrapping around her collarbone. She tied her hair back, transforming into her tomboy self once again.

There were hidden passages in the estate, barely guarded. These guards were fiercely loyal to Sergei — if they saw her dressed this way, they would report instantly. She slipped into one of those routes unnoticed, shadows following her as she clutched the stolen map of the General Kuznetsov estate.

The morning was foggy and dim, like the world itself was holding its breath. She found the place — an abandoned warehouse on the obutskirts. Vast, cold, eerie. It looked forgotten by time, and that made it perfect.

She stood in the silence, frowning, scanning the area.

“Where the hell is he—”

“You’re late,” came a voice from nowhere.

She spun around, startled. Kieran stepped from the shadows, dressed in black from head to toe. The darkness clung to him like armor. He looked ridiculously cool.

Get a grip, Avery.

Her jaw dropped. “I’m the one late? You just got here!”

“You don’t talk to your trainer like that,” he replied flatly, giving her a once-over. “Though… the outfit suits the attitude.”

Avery blinked, almost taken aback. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“Didn’t say that,” he smirked.

She snorted. “Tch. Trainer, my foot.”

“I heard that. Are you sure you came here unnoticed?” he asked, scanning their surroundings. “There are eyes in that estate. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Before she could answer, a fist came flying at her. She barely dodged it.

“Are you insane?!”

“Lesson one,” he said. “Always expect the unexpected.”

And so the fight began.

Avery gave it her all — swinging, blocking, ducking. But Kieran barely moved. His movements were fluid, effortless. Trained. She was throwing her entire body into the fight, and he still looked bored.

“Why can’t I just hit you!” she gasped, breathing heavily.

“Because you fight based on emotions,” he replied, shifting easily from defense to attack. “Emotions slow you down.”

“You move too fast,” she muttered between pants. “And you never stop being cryptic.”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I’m curious. You’re too mysterious. I want to know everything.”

“Curiosity kills the cat,” Kieran scoffed, sidestepping another punch.

In the distance, a faint click… click echoed. Unnoticed at first. But someone was watching — taking pictures from the shadows. The snapping sound faded as the figure quietly retreated.

Kieran suddenly froze, his expression unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” Avery asked.

“Go home,” he said abruptly. “I have something to handle.”

Before she could protest, he vanished again — into the mist like smoke on wind.

“Always disappearing,” she muttered, frustrated.

Back in the estate, she snuck into her room, bathed quickly, and changed into fresh clothes. Thankfully, she had barely any injuries. He had gone easy on her — just enough to teach.

That evening, she stood in her room, facing a dummy she’d formed out of cloth and pillows. She began attacking it like it was Kieran — practicing every move she learned, burning each step into her muscles.

A knock came at the door. She expected Malina.

But it was Lisa — all bubbly and smiling.

“Oh my God, your room is huge!” she gushed, spinning around. “This is like a princess chamber!”

Avery just blinked as Lisa's gaze landed on the destroyed dummy.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” Avery replied casually. “So I can finish off Sergei.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Shhh! The walls have ears. You trying to die early?!”

“Did you complete your mission?” Lisa asked, whispering now.

“Kinda. You’re not asking what it was?”

“I trust you.”

Lisa flopped on the bed. “Anyway… how was your date with that Ivan guy?”

Avery gulped water. “It was fine. A little… interrupted. He took me in some expensive-ass car to this Korean restaurant. I ate until I could barely breathe. Unlike here — where all I get is cheap rameyon.”

“Oh, dear Korea,” Lisa sighed dramatically. “I even met a new friend from Korea too!”

“Good for you,” Avery said.

“Are you jealous?” Lisa teased. “That I got a new friend?”

“What? No!”

“Your face is green with jealousy. wanjeon jiltujaeng-iya! (You're totally a jealous cat!) she giggled.

She slammed a pillow on Avery’s face.

“Silly cat!”

They played around, laughter echoing through the chamber. Afterward, they shared some rameyon, which Avery surprisingly enjoyed — slurping up the spicy strands with ease. Lisa even brought tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes), and Avery ate those too, nodding approvingly.

“This estate is boring,” Lisa sighed. “We should sneak out someday — go to clubs, shows, cinema. No Petrov. No Lilia. No guards.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Avery muttered.

“Sounds fun,” Lisa corrected, blowing a kiss and throwing a finger heart.

Avery rolled her eyes.

Just then, a sharp knock echoed from outside. The girls exchanged glances — they knew that voice.

The head maid.

“The wives’ gathering began hours ago. You’re late.”

“We’ll be there,” Avery replied, completely nonchalant.

“Aish…” Lisa muttered, hands in her hair, messing up her curls. “dammit.’”

They got dressed quickly.

“What’s the meeting about?” Avery asked.

“Power plays. Rules. The stuff Mafia ladies obsess over. Sometimes we’re sent on missions too — against rival families.”

They held hands, walking toward the hall with guards trailing behind.

As they entered, silence fell.

All eyes turned. The discussion stopped.

Avery walked in like she couldn’t care less. Lilia, seated proudly in the center, smirked and stood.

“You’re both late. You’ll be punished.”

Her heels clicked as she stepped forward. “Lick the bottom of my shoes, and I’ll let it go.”

Avery snorted.

“Sweetheart,” she said loudly, “you should worry more about the fact that I caught you in the forgotten passage — begging to be fucked by your bastard stepson.”

Gasps erupted.

Utter silence fell. One of the wives dropped her teacup.

“You lying—!”

Lilia’s slap came fast — but Avery’s punch was faster.

The room went still.