Unlit cigarette
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She carried her other hand across her brow, catching a glimpse of herself in the polished table; a lazy reflection of a decades' worth of troubles. Her hair was a blond shade of bleached-white, dull and limp. Her face was a well-hidden past. Her eyes, well, to her people, they were another story.
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She was a woman who held her country above her own life, a patriot in a world consumed by greed. But those around her worshipped wealth over honor, and in their ruthless pursuit, they broke her-mocked her, betrayed her, and forced her into the darkness they thrived in. What they didn't realize was that they weren't creating a victim; they were awakening a storm. In the shadows, she rose-not as a fallen soul, but as a queen of the underworld, a phantom unseen by the world. "When a woman seeks revenge, even the devil takes notes."
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