LOGINTime froze. Aria felt the cold bite of steel against her throat, the warmth of Adrian’s breath brushing her skin like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Her pulse hammered so violently she thought the blade might slice into her just from the tremor alone. Across the warehouse, Damon stood like a man carved from war itself. His chest heaved. His fists bled from the fight. His eyes—God, his eyes—burned with a fury that could melt steel. “Adrian,” Damon growled, voice gravel and death. “Let. Her. Go.” Adrian’s grip tightened around Aria’s waist. “Do you know what it’s like,” he whispered, “to watch your brother die while you do nothing?” Damon froze—not from fear, but from a pain buried so deep it took the strength from his breath. “Your brother?” Aria whispered, shocked. Adrian chuckled darkly. “Oh, he didn’t tell you? Damon didn’t save him. Damon walked away.” “That’s not what happened,” Damon snapped, stepping forward. “Stop.” Adrian pressed the blade harder,
The warehouse behind them buzzed with whispered orders and quiet urgency, but Damon didn’t seem to hear any of it. His focus was locked on the crimson message Adrian left behind, his entire body brimming with a rage so tightly contained it looked like it could crack his bones. Aria watched him, her pulse fluttering in her throat. Damon wasn’t angry. He was dangerous. Ethan stepped forward carefully. “We swept the area. Adrian’s long gone.” Damon didn’t blink. “He was close enough to write this. That means he wanted us to see it.” “He wanted her to see it,” Ethan corrected softly. Damon turned, jaw tight. “Not happening.” Aria took a steadying breath. “Damon—” He looked at her sharply, eyes fierce, voice low. “He’s escalating. He’s pushing you toward fear, guilt, anything that makes you vulnerable.” Aria held his gaze. “I’m not afraid of Adrian.” “You should be,” Damon whispered. “He’s unhinged. And now he’s made it personal.” Ethan approached with a tablet. “We found somet
The scream ripped through the darkness before Aria could even breathe. “Damon!” she shouted, arms outstretched, searching blindly in the black void. Chaos detonated around them. Damon’s men shouted commands, boots scraping across concrete. A second gunshot thundered, echoing through the warehouse like a death sentence. “Lights!” Ethan roared. “Get the—damn—lights—” The emergency generators flickered, sending dim red beams slicing through the dark. Shadows twisted everywhere, but Damon—he wasn’t where he had been standing a moment ago. Aria felt her heart stop. “Damon?” Her voice cracked. A strong hand grabbed her arm. She spun, ready to fight— “It’s me,” Damon said, pulling her behind a broken metal crate. His face was tight, breath heavy, but he was alive. Relief hit her so hard her knees almost gave way. “Someone screamed—was it—” “Yes,” Damon said, scanning the warehouse. “One of Adrian’s men took a bullet. But Adrian—” He looked around. Adrian was gone. Ethan approa
The drive to the industrial district was a blur of fractured lights and brittle silence. Damon didn’t speak. Aria didn’t dare to. The SUV cut through the night like a blade, escorted by two black sedans behind them. The air felt tight—thick enough to choke on. Damon’s jaw was locked, his fingers white against the steering wheel. She had seen him angry. She had seen him dangerous. But this—this quiet, controlled fury—terrified her more than anything Adrian could do. “Damon…” she finally whispered. “Not now.” The words were sharp enough to cut. Aria flinched. She looked out the window, fighting the ache spreading through her chest. She never wanted to keep secrets from him—not after everything they had been through. But the case she buried… it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t safe. And if Damon knew the truth— He might never look at her the same way again. When they reached the district, the air turned colder. Old warehouses stretched across the landscape like rusted skeletons. Shad
Night draped itself over Veridion City like a velvet warning. Lights glittered from the skyscrapers, reflections trembling against the glass as if the city itself felt the tension gathering in Damon Reed’s penthouse. Aria stood in front of the large monitor, arms crossed, eyes sharp. Lines of code scrolled in rapid succession—a digital map of transactions, cyber footprints, encrypted signatures. Every piece felt like a whisper, a clue, a challenge. Damon joined her, his presence grounding and dangerous all at once. “You’re sure this isn’t a false trail?” he asked. Aria didn’t look away from the screen. “It’s too clean to be real. And that makes it real.” Damon’s brow lifted. “Explain.” She typed quickly, pulling up a second window. “A guilty person tries to hide their steps. But a professional? They create a perfect trail. Smooth. Linear. Suspiciously flawless.” Damon’s gaze hardened. “A cleaner.” Aria nodded. “And not an amateur.” He exhaled slowly. “So they want us to follo
Aria woke to a quiet so thick it felt conspiratorial. The penthouse hummed with the low, constant breath of the city below, but inside, Damon’s men moved like silent sentinels—precise, watchful.The night had been long, but sleep had come in jagged pieces, more like a pause than rest.She padded into the living room and found Damon already awake, dark eyes hooded, a newspaper at his knees though he wasn’t reading it. He was staring at the floor-to-ceiling windows, shoulders tight with unresolved tension.When he finally looked at her, the flash of relief on his face was raw and too private for words.“You rested?” he asked.“As much as you can in a war zone,” she said, trying to mask the unease twisting in her stomach.Damon pushed to his feet. He moved toward her too quickly, stopping only when he was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.“We have to move fast,” he said quietly. “Adrian didn’t just send a threat—we found this last night.”He handed her a thin photogr







