Chapter Two: Shadows Move

She was being watched.

She felt it in her skin. In the back of her neck. In the way her heartbeat wouldn’t settle even after she’d walked ten blocks away from Vale Corp and ducked into a noisy café on Fifth Avenue.

Aria sat in the back corner, fingers trembling slightly around a paper cup of burnt espresso she hadn’t touched.

The photo sat hidden in her bag, folded between her contract papers. She hadn’t looked at it again.

She didn’t need to.

She’d memorized every pixel the second she saw it because that photo didn’t exist. It couldn’t exist. No one had taken it. That night was chaos. Blood. Sirens. Silence. And then nothing.

She’d vanished after that. Changed her name. Her story. Her hair.

And someone at Vale Corp had reached into her grave and pulled her back into the light.

A bell chimed over the café door.

Aria didn’t flinch but her eyes moved.

A man in a dark coat stepped in. Looked around. Not at the menu. Not at the barista. Just scanned the room. Deliberately.

Her pulse spiked.

He didn’t see her or pretended not to and exited again.

Coincidence?

She closed her eyes.

No. No such thing anymore.

Aria reached into her bag, pulled out her phone. She scrolled to the only number that mattered in moments like this.

Nova.

Her best friend. Her only friend. The one person who knew the truth… but not all of it.

She hit dial.

Straight to voicemail.

Aria hung up. Texted instead:

We need to talk. Urgent. Your place?

She hit send. Waited. Nothing.

She glanced up again.

The man in the coat hadn’t returned. But a black SUV had parked across the street.

Her stomach flipped.

She grabbed her things and left the café without touching her drink.

The photo might’ve been a warning.

Or a threat.

Either way, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Someone remembered who she was.

And they wanted her to know it.

Nova lived in a third-floor walk-up above a thrift store in Brooklyn. The kind of place that smelled like old books and fresh coffee and survival. Aria had always felt safe here.

But today, even the walls seemed to lean in listening.

Nova opened the door before Aria could knock.

“You look like hell,” she said.

“Thanks. You always know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

Nova stepped aside. “I meant it in the affectionate way.”

Aria dropped her bag and kicked off her boots like she had a thousand times before. She didn’t sit. Couldn’t.

Nova watched her with quiet concern.

“Talk.”

Aria pulled the photo from her bag and handed it over. She didn’t say anything. Just watched Nova’s face change first curiosity, then disbelief, then something like fear.

“No way,” Nova whispered. “Where did you get this?”

“It was inside my offer packet. From Vale Corp.”

Nova looked up sharply. “You sure someone there put it in?”

“I haven’t exactly been spreading it around, Nova. No one else has this photo. Hell, I don’t even remember anyone taking it.”

Nova’s hands trembled as she handed it back. “That’s from that night.”

“I know.”

“Shit, Aria.”

“I know.”

Silence crashed between them.

Nova sat slowly, one hand gripping the arm of the couch like it was anchoring her.

“Okay,” she said finally. “We need to talk about options. You can’t work there, Ari. You know that, right? If they know who you are”

“I don’t know what they know.”

Nova narrowed her eyes. “You think this is just coincidence? The Vale family owns that city. Their reach is practically criminal.”

Aria laughed bitter and soft. “You said practically. I think it’s more than that.”

Nova leaned forward. “Why would they dig this up now? You’ve been buried for years. You changed everything. You disappeared.”

“I don’t know,” Aria whispered. “But Cassian Vale looked at me today like he already knew something. Or wanted to.”

Nova stilled.

“Wait. You met him?”

Aria nodded.

Nova stood and started pacing. “That’s not good. That’s not good at all. He’s not just rich. He’s not just powerful. He’s dangerous, Aria.”

“I’m not scared of him.”

“Maybe you should be.”

They stared at each other.

Then Nova’s tone softened. “You’re scared of something.”

Aria turned away. “I thought I could finally breathe. I thought I could be someone else. I thought if I worked hard enough, disappeared deep enough, it would be over.”

Nova walked over and touched her arm. “You’re not the girl from that night anymore.”

Aria shook her head. “No. I’m the woman who’s about to walk into the fire all over again.”

Nova exhaled. “So what do you want to do?”

“I’m taking the job.”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe,” Aria said. “But if they’re watching me, I want to know why. And I can’t do that from the outside.”

Nova grabbed her by the wrist. “Then at least promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If it gets bad really bad don’t run alone.”

Aria smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I won’t run at all.”

Aria’s apartment was too quiet when she opened the door.

Not the usual kind of quiet the soft, lived-in hum of a one-bedroom on the third floor of a walk-up near Bed-Stuy. This silence was sharp. Staged. It felt… wrong.

She stood in the doorway for a full minute, listening.

Nothing.

Then she stepped inside.

The air smelled off faint traces of citrus and metal. Her curtains swayed slightly, though the windows were shut. The lamp on her entry table was tilted. Not broken. Not knocked over. Just… moved.

Her chest tightened.

She dropped her bag quietly, walked through the apartment one room at a time.

Living room untouched.

Kitchen clean, like she left it.

Bathroom door open, mirror fogless.

Bedroom

Her dresser drawers were open.

All of them.

Her underwear had been folded wrong military neat, which she never did. Her jewelry tray had been rearranged. Nothing was missing.

But everything had been… touched.

They weren’t looking for valuables.

They were looking for her.

She stepped backward, phone already in her hand. Her thumb hovered over Nova’s name but stopped.

If Nova was right, if this was Cassian Vale’s world reaching into hers, involving anyone else could get them both killed. Nova had already risked enough.

She moved back into the living room and crouched, pulling out the old box she kept under the floorboard photos, flash drives, newspaper clippings, and a burner phone she’d hoped to never need again.

She hadn’t touched this box in four years.

Now it felt like her lifeline.

She powered the burner on.

One number saved.

She stared at it.

Derek Quinn.

Her half-brother. Ex-cop. Disgraced. The only person more paranoid than she was.

She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d disappeared. He didn’t even know she was alive.

But he might know who could get into her place without leaving a trace.

She hesitated.

Then the burner buzzed in her hand a message appeared.

Unknown Number:

“Careful, Aria. Some ghosts don’t stay buried.”

Cassian Vale stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his private penthouse office, thirty stories above the city, untouched glass in his hand.

He hadn’t moved in twenty minutes.

The city blinked below cold, mechanical, alive. But not breathing. Not like she did.

Aria Quinn.

She wasn’t what he expected.

Most candidates who stepped into his orbit tried to impress, seduce, prove themselves. Aria had done none of that. She’d studied him like she was trying to decide if he was human or myth. And she’d walked away with his attention wrapped around her like silk thread pulled tight.

Something about her was wrong.

Not unqualified. Not amateur.

Wrong in a way that made something in his gut twist a pulse he hadn’t felt in years.

There was history beneath her skin. Stillness behind her smile. Fire under glass.

And then there was the photo.

He hadn’t put it in her file.

He hadn’t even seen the photo until it came to his desk no name attached, no explanation, just slipped inside a sealed personnel folder as if it belonged there.

He’d reviewed the image six times now.

Young. Eighteen. Vulnerable. Standing in front of a building he recognized.

Queens.

That night.

It was impossible.

Or it should’ve been.

Someone inside Vale Corp was playing a long game. And they were using Aria to move the pieces.

Cassian turned from the window and walked to his desk. The screen of his tablet still glowed, showing security footage of Aria leaving the building earlier that day her jaw tight, her steps fast, her eyes scanning.

She knew.

She’d seen the photo. And she was scared.

Good.

Fear revealed truth faster than comfort ever could.

He shut off the feed and locked the tablet.

Then picked up his phone and dialed a secure number.

A voice answered on the second ring.

“Mr. Vale?”

“She’s not what she says she is,” Cassian said quietly. “Keep eyes on her. Full sweep. Digital and physical.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if anyone touches her without my permission you’ll be the one answering for it.”

Click.

He ended the call.

Cassian sat in silence, eyes dark, thoughts darker.

He hadn’t decided if Aria Quinn was a threat.

But something told him she was a key.

And he wasn’t about to let anyone else find the lock first.