ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⅸ

Michael sat in his office, fingers steepled under his chin, his mind working through every possible angle. Lisa had been quiet—too quiet. But that only meant she was biding her time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

He wasn't about to give her that chance.

Javon walked in, closing the door behind him. "Boss, we got eyes on Lisa. She's still in Vegas, staying at some cheap-ass motel off the Strip. Looks like she ain't got much left."

Michael smirked. "Desperation don't look good on her."

Javon chuckled. "Nah, it don't. But she's still dangerous."

Michael nodded. "That's why we're ending this. For good."

Javon leaned forward. "What's the move?"

Michael exhaled, his eyes dark and unreadable. "We lure her in. Make her think she still has control. She's obsessed with me, so let's use that. We leak word that I'll be at one of my clubs alone. No security. No Giselle. Just me."

Javon's brows raised. "You really think she gon' take that bait?"

Michael smirked. "Oh, she will. She still thinks she can win."

Javon nodded. "A'ight. I'll set it up. We'll have the place locked down, snipers in place, exits covered."

Michael's expression hardened. "No more games, Javon. When she walks in that club, she don't walk out."

Javon met his gaze. "Understood."

As his right-hand man left to set the plan in motion, Michael leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

Lisa had been a problem for too long.

She had threatened his wife, his children, his empire.

And now, she was about to find out—

Michael Jackson didn't leave loose ends.

-

Michael landed in Las Vegas just after midnight, stepping off his private jet with an air of cold determination. The city lights stretched out before him, flashing with neon temptation, but he wasn't here to play. He was here to end Lisa.

Javon was already waiting for him by the blacked-out SUV. "We got a problem."

Michael's jaw clenched. "What now?"

Javon opened the car door, letting Michael slide into the back seat before speaking. "Lisa's not alone. She's been in contact with Prince's old crew. Some of them are still loyal to her, and word is, she's tryna regroup."

Michael let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping against his knee. "So she ain't just hiding. She's planning."

Javon nodded. "Yeah, and she ain't stupid. She knows we're onto her. But she don't know you're here yet."

Michael's mind worked quickly. Lisa had lost her power, but if she was trying to rally Prince's people, that meant she was still a threat. And that was unacceptable.

He looked at Javon. "Where are they?"

Javon handed him a tablet with security footage. "Some shady ass warehouse off the Strip. Word is, she's been meeting them there, promising them shit she don't have."

Michael smirked. "She's desperate."

Javon nodded. "And desperate people do stupid things."

Michael's eyes darkened. "I want her taken care of. But I want those fools she's been talking to handled first."

Javon raised a brow. "You want me to send the guys?"

Michael shook his head. "No. I want you to send Chris."

Javon let out a low whistle. "Damn. You really want this done."

Michael leaned back, cracking his neck. "Lisa thinks she still has power. I'ma remind her who really runs this."

Javon pulled out his phone. "I'll let Chris know. What about you?"

Michael smirked. "I'm paying Lisa a visit myself."

-

Michael walked into the dimly lit warehouse, his steps slow and calculated. Lisa was sitting on top of a wooden crate, smoking a cigarette like she had no worries in the world.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," she said, exhaling a trail of smoke.

Michael didn't flinch. He didn't have time for her games. "This ends tonight, Lisa."

She chuckled, flicking the ash from her cigarette. "You always did like to act like you were in control, huh?" She stood up, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. "But let's be real, Michael—you wouldn't be here if you weren't desperate."

Michael's jaw clenched. "I ain't desperate. I'm just cleaning up the mess."

Lisa smirked. "That's funny because from where I'm standing, you're the one walking into a trap."

Before he could react, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse.

Michael's body tensed.

The steel doors slammed shut behind him.

Suddenly, guns cocked in the shadows, red laser dots aiming straight at his chest.

Shit.

He had walked right into her setup.

Lisa stepped closer, tilting her head. "You really thought you could just come here and take me out?" She laughed. "You've gotten sloppy, Michael."

Michael's mind worked fast. He didn't have a gun—Javon had insisted he go in unarmed, thinking it'd be a quick job.

Big mistake.

One of Lisa's men moved forward, gun raised. "What should we do with him, boss?"

Lisa tapped her chin like she was thinking, dragging the moment out just to piss him off. "Hmm. I could kill you. I really could. But that's too easy."

Michael smirked. "You think this is checkmate? You got no idea who you playin' with."

Lisa's smile faltered for a split second.

That's when Michael made his move.

He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest guy and twisting his arm, forcing the gun to turn. A shot fired—straight into another man's chest. Chaos erupted as the other goons reacted, but Michael was already moving.

He shoved a crate into one of the men, using it as cover as bullets flew past him. He was outnumbered, but he wasn't outplayed.

Ducking behind a stack of metal barrels, he spotted an exit sign. He needed to get the hell out before Lisa's men regrouped.

He sprinted for the door, dodging another round of shots. Just as he reached the exit, a sharp pain seared through his arm.

They got me.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the pain and burst through the door, disappearing into the alleyway.

The streets of Vegas were alive, flashing lights and sirens in the distance. He didn't stop running until he reached a stolen black sedan waiting for him on the corner.

Chris was in the driver's seat, looking pissed. "What the fuck happened?!"

Michael slammed the door shut, pressing a hand to his bleeding arm. "It was a setup."

Chris peeled off, tires screeching. "You good?"

Michael exhaled sharply. "I'll live." He looked out the window, jaw tight. "Get me the fuck back to L.A."

Lisa had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

Now, she was going to pay.

-

Michael sat on the edge of their bed, shirtless, wincing as he pressed a clean cloth against his bleeding arm. His jaw was tight, his body tense. The dim glow of their bedroom lamp cast shadows across his face, making his features look even sharper.

Giselle stood beside him, arms crossed, her eyes filled with worry and frustration.

"You walked straight into a setup, Michael," she said, her voice low but firm.

He let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Yeah, no shit." He gritted his teeth as he dabbed alcohol on the wound. "She had her guys waiting for me. Got me good, but I got out."

Giselle sat beside him, taking the cloth from his hands. "Let me do it."

Michael didn't argue. He was exhausted, and for once, he let her take care of him. She carefully cleaned the wound, her touch gentle despite the fire in her eyes.

"This has to stop," she muttered.

Michael looked at her. "You know I can't let it go. Not after this."

Giselle exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Michael, Lisa's out of L.A. now. She's in Vegas. Let her rot there."

He frowned. "She ain't gonna stop, Gigi."

"Then let her keep digging her own grave," she shot back. "You go after her again, and she'll be expecting it. You barely made it out this time—next time, you might not."

Michael clenched his fists. Every part of him wanted to finish what he started, to make sure Lisa never had the chance to come back for them. But Giselle... she was right.

For now, Lisa was out of L.A. As long as she stayed in Vegas, she was someone else's problem.

Michael sighed, leaning back against the headboard, letting Giselle wrap the wound with a bandage.

"I ain't used to just letting people go," he muttered.

Giselle gave him a small smile, brushing a hand through his curls. "I know. But you got a family now, Michael. Me, Prince, Blue Ivy—we need you here, not out there chasing ghosts."

He exhaled slowly, letting her words sink in. He looked into her eyes, saw the love, the concern, and the strength in them.

"Alright," he finally said. "I'll let it be."

Giselle kissed his forehead softly, resting her hand on his chest. "Good. Now, get some rest. You're not invincible, you know."

Michael smirked, pulling her close. "You sure about that?"

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the relief in her expression.

For now, Lisa was out of their lives. But Michael knew one thing for certain—this wasn't over. Not yet.