He winced, the agony he was in clearly visible. ‘But I’ve changed. I’ve learned to live with pain. First, my face, now my eyes. My men looked at the goldman in there, so their eyes liquefied completely, but I only caught a glimpse of him, so mine just ache like a motherfucker. We managed to get back here, only to encounter two silvermen.’

He looked at the ledge on which they stood and the doorway leading away from it.

‘You, however, seem to know exactly where you’re going. Thank you for showing me the way.’ He smirked again. ‘You always were a smart little bitch, Lily. I hated that about you. Let’s see if you’re smart enough to dodge this.’

Then he drew a pistol, aimed it right at Lily’s forehead and before Lily—or Jack, watching from the other side of the shaft—could do anything about it, he fired.

Somehow, Dion’s shot missed.

He couldn’t have been more stunned.

He was only five feet away from Lily. No-one could miss from that range.

But Lily was ready for it and she took advantage of his shock and moved at lightning speed.

She leapt forward, clutching one hand around Dion’s grenade hand—keeping the grenade’s spoon depressed—while with her other fist, she hit him right in the nose.

Dion’s nose broke, exploding with blood, and he grunted as he staggered back a step.

As he did, Lily wrenched the grenade from his grasp—still keeping the spoon depressed—and punched him again, once, twice, each time in his already broken nose.

‘You can handle pain, huh?’ she said furiously. ‘Well, I want you to feel every one of these.’

In each ensuing punch there was a well of anger, retribution, payback.

She hit him four more times in his busted nose, turning it into a pulpy bloody mess.

Dion reeled under her blows.

Then his heels touched the edge of the ledge and the newly minted King of the Underworld—once a handsome and wealthy prince with women and money and not a care in the world—looked at Lily with his deformed jaw, his broken nose and his semi-melted eyes.

‘Come, now, Lily, surely we can—’

‘You wanted to keep me as a sex slave, to share with your brother, you prick. Guess what: you picked the wrong girl. See if you can dodge this.’

And with those words, she jammed the grenade into the front of his pants and shoved him off the ledge.

Dion screamed as he dropped off the ledge.

He had fallen about ten feet when the grenade detonated, blowing his mid-section apart, and he fell into the abyss in two ragged pieces.

Then he was gone, vanishing into the darkness, and the shaft was silent.