MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The mimic was now bleeding ichor from the gunshot wounds, herded Becky into a corner. Fear etched across Becky's face, she pressed herself against the cold brick wall, her eyes tightly shut.

The mimic, with a palpable defiance let out a chilling snarl. "This is far from over, mortals."

With a sudden burst of speed, it pivoted and sprinted away, leaving the officers momentarily stunned. The alley swallowed the mimic's form as it disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind an eerie silence.

Sergeant Miller an older officer immediately came running after hearing the gun shots with his jaw clenched, addressed the bewildered officers. "Secure the area! Call for medical assistance. And someone get that man!"

≠==============

In the chaos that followed, Becky's story poured forth in a torrent of words. She recounted the attack, the horror of seeing Blake trying to murder her.

"It was him," she insisted, her voice trembling with residual terror. "Blake Shelton tried to kill me."

The evidence was damning – the struggle in her apartment, the shattered vase, and the eyewitness accounts of the officers who had seen the mimic as Blake.

Within hours, a warrant was issued for Blake's arrest on charges of attempted murder.

And as the authorities converged on Rose's penthouse, the mimic made her way back to Elena, her form once again shifting to conceal her monstrous visage.

Elena Shelley stood framed in the window of her opulent mansion, her expression one of smug satisfaction as the mimic recounted the night's events.

"So, it didn't go exactly as planned," she mused, her fingers toying idly with a lock of her perfectly coiffed hair. "But the result is the same. Rose is finished, and Blake will hang for the crimes committed by you.. mimic."

The mimic remained impassive, her features frozen in a grotesque parody of humanity.

Elena's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Soon, the Shelley empire will be mine, and this pathetic chapter will be nothing more than a distant memory."

Her gaze hardened, her eyes glinting with a ruthless ambition. "Rose had her chance to rule, and she squandered it. Now, it's my turn."

====================================

Across the city, the forces of law and order closed in on Rose's sanctuary, their weapons drawn and their expressions grim.

The pounding at the door was insistent, jarring Rose from her vigil at Blake's bedside. She rose, her movements sluggish and her mind numb with exhaustion and worry.

"Rose Shelley!" The voice boomed from the other side of the door, laced with authority. "Open up! We have a warrant for the arrest of Blake Shelton on charges of attempted murder!"

Rose's heart stuttered in her chest, her mind whirling as she tried to make sense of the chaotic situation. Attempted murder? Blake was barely clinging to life.

The door burst open, and a contingent of heavily armed officers swarmed into the penthouse. Their guns swept the room, their gazes sharp and unwavering. They held guns that would most likely cleave a sould from its body.

"What are those for? Are you trying to kill an elephant?" She had to ask seeing all the heavy arms they held.

"You are harbouring a very dangerous criminal and we have come to arrest him. Do not aid him escape else you'd be implicated!" One officer said.

"Where is he? We checked at his apartment but he's not there" the lead officer demanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Rose's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes blazing with defiance. "He's in here," she replied, her tone clipped. "But he's been drugged, and he's in no condition to go anywhere."

The officers followed her into the bedroom, their expressions hardening at the sight of Blake's prone form on the bed. For a moment, doubt flickered across their features, but it was quickly quashed by their sense of duty.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the lead officer said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "But we have eyewitness accounts and evidence linking him to an attempted murder. We have to take him in."

Rose's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. "You're making a mistake," she ground out, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "He hasn't even left the bed in days!"

But her protests fell on deaf ears. The officers moved in, their hands rough as they secured the restraints around Blake's wrists and ankles. He stirred briefly, his eyes fluttering open in a haze of confusion and disorientation.

"Rose..." he mumbled, his voice thick and slurred. "What's happening?"

She held his gaze, her expression a mask of anguish and impotent rage. "It's going to be alright," she lied, the words tasting like ashes on her tongue. "I'll get you out of this, I promise."

Blake's eyes slipped closed once more, and the officers hoisted him onto the waiting gurney. Rose followed, her steps leaden, as they wheeled him out of the penthouse and into the waiting police transport.

Reggie, Randal and Gunther all looked at Rose, awaiting her command but she gave them an eye to stand down and do nothing. There was too much on ground already. If she let her guards loose, there would be a blood bath. And she worried for Blake.

As the doors slammed shut, sealing Blake away from her, Rose's composure finally shattered. A primal scream of fury and anguish tore from her throat, echoing through the empty halls of her once-grand domain.

Immediately, her thoughts drove to only one person that could be responsible.

Elena's victory was all but assured, or so she thought. But Rose was far from finished, her determination burning brighter than ever before.

As the transport carried Blake away, she turned her gaze towards the city that had once been her kingdom. A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips, her eyes glinting with a newfound fire.

"You made your move," she murmured, her voice laced with a deadly promise. "Now it's my turn."

The battle lines had been drawn, and Rose was determined to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.

The war was far from over.