LOGIN*Aria's POV*Three days later, the Drakov Estate was unrecognizable.The scaffolding was gone. The scorch marks on the stone had been cleaned or painted over. The garden had been re-landscaped overnight, filled with white roses and towering hedges.It was a stage set for a lie.I stood in the master bedroom, looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Elena Drakov had sent a stylist. I was wearing a gown of deep emerald silk, backless, with a high slit that screamed elegance and danger. The golden bracelet Lucian had given me glinted on my wrist.My makeup was flawless, concealing the fading bruise on my cheekbone. I looked like a queen. I felt like a soldier going into battle."The car is ready," Lucian said from the doorway.I turned. He was wearing a black tuxedo, custom-tailored, with a black tie. He looked devastatingly handsome, but his eyes were hard. He wasn't going to a party; he was going to a war zone.He walked over, producing a small velvet box from his pocket."I
*Aria's POV*The nightmare didn't come as a scream. It came as silence.In the dream, I was back in the bunker, standing in the middle of the playroom. Adrian was sitting on the floor, but when I called his name, he didn't look up. The room was filling with water, dark and icy, rising silently around his ankles, his waist, his chest. I tried to run to him, but my feet were encased in concrete. I opened my mouth to scream, but my voice was gone.I woke up gasping, my hand clutching the sheets so hard my knuckles were white.The room was dark. The digital clock on the nightstand read 4:13 AM. Beside me, Lucian slept deeply–a rare occurrence these days. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, his face relaxed in the shadows. Even in sleep, he looked formidable, the lines of his jaw sharp enough to cut glass.I carefully lifted his arm, sliding out from under the warmth of his embrace. I needed air. I needed to see the sky, even if it was just the grey, pre-dawn light of the city.I wal
*Lucian's POV*The Drakov estate was a skeleton of its former self.Scaffolding clung to the east wing where the explosions had scorched the stone. The smell of wet ash and fresh lumber hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of how close Malcom had come to bringing the walls down.I stood in the operations center–the only room fully functional. Screens flickered with blue light, displaying camera feeds, perimeter sensors, and thermal overlays.Nikolai stood beside me, his arms crossed, staring at a monitor that showed a red blinking light on the eastern grid."It’s happened again," Nikolai said, his voice tight with frustration.I leaned in. "The same sector?""Sector 4. The blind spot near the river."We had swept that area three times since the attack. We had repaired the wiring, replaced the cameras, and stationed two-man teams on rotation. Yet, every night between 3:00 AM and 4:00 AM, the system reported a "ghost" reading. A shadow that wasn't there."Equipment failure?" I ask
*Aria's POV*The penthouse felt different after his parents left. It wasn't that anything had moved–every vase, every rug, every piece of art was exactly where it had been for years. But the air felt thinner, as if Victor and Elena had sucked the oxygen out of the room along with their judgment.I stood in the nursery, watching Adrian play with a set of magnetic tiles. He was building a tower, his small brow furrowed in concentration. He hadn’t spoken about the bunker, or Silas, or the men with guns. He played in silence, a silence that terrified me more than the nightmares I knew were coming."Mommy, look," he said suddenly, his voice a soft rasp. "It's a castle.""It's a beautiful castle, baby," I said, kneeling beside him. "Who lives in the castle?""A dragon," he said simply, placing a red tile on top. "But he's a good dragon. He keeps the bad guys out."My throat tightened. I stroked his hair. "Yes. He does."The doorbell chimed.I froze. My heart rate spiked instantly, a Pavlovi
*Aria’s POV*The peaceful silence of the penthouse was shattered by the sharp, rhythmic knocking on the front door. It wasn't the tentative knock of a servant or the alert of a security detail. It was a summons.I froze, midway through pouring coffee. Lucian, who had been reading a file at the kitchen island, went rigid. He knew that knock. It was a sound from his childhood–a sound that demanded entry, not requested it."Stay here," Lucian said, his voice low.He walked to the door and opened it.Victor and Elena Drakov swept in like a cold front, bringing the chill of Switzerland with them. They hadn’t announced their arrival, but then again, they didn’t need to. They owned the walls we stood in.Victor Sinclair looked older than the last time I saw him, which wasn’t very long ago, but it felt as if there was something weighing on him. The lines around his mouth deeper, carved by years of calculated decisions. He wore a charcoal overcoat, his posture as rigid as a marble column.Elen
*Lucian’s POV*The penthouse smelled of lemon polish and stale air.I had ordered the staff to maintain it weekly, even though I hadn’t stepped foot in it for four years. It was a mausoleum. A shrine to a life I had destroyed. Standing in the doorway now, with Aria trembling beside me and Adrian asleep in my arms, I felt like a trespasser in my own past."Welcome home," I murmured, the words feeling inadequate.Aria walked past me, her steps hesitant. She ran her fingers over the marble entryway console, her touch feather-light, as if she expected the furniture to dissolve into mist."It’s exactly the same," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "The rug... the painting. It’s just that it’s tidier than when you brought me here last time."I hadn't changed a single thing. I couldn't. To change it would have been to admit she was never coming back.I carried Adrian down the hall to the room nearest the master suite. I had never thought there would be a nursery here. Now, it held a proper be
*Aria's POV* Adrian whimpered, looking at the man with tears in his eyes. I reacted without thinking — twisting, kicking, screaming— but the man was stronger. He dragged us down the alley, one hand over my mouth, the other crushing my wrist. Snow swallowed the sound. The bakery was dark. The
Aria's POV Everything about Lucian was awareness now. Predatory, focused, dangerously quiet. I knew that se choices would haunt me forever. A choice I made… A destiny I couldn’t rewrite. “You built a life.” He said bitterly. “Here.” “Yes.” I replied. “With him.” “Yes.” He took an
*Aria's POV*I looked at Marta and gulped."Are they asking about me?"Marta shook her head quickly. "No. No names. Just... families. Women who arrived years ago. Ones who keep to themselves."I swallowed."I didn't tell them anything." She added firmly. "This village doesn't sell its own."Gratitu
*Aria’s POV*I know the rules. And I remember them very clear. I wasn’t scared to break them, but I had to be careful in order for me to leave this hell hole.Lucian was right when he said welcome to hell.He even printed me a card with additional rules. He left it on the vanity beside my bed, as i







