Chapter Thirty-One - Terms & Teeth

I escort Aria downstairs myself.

Not because she needs guarding—

but because it sends a message.

She walks just ahead of me, spine straight, shoulders back, moving like she’s daring the world to test her again. The dress Danika put her in clings in all the wrong ways—wrong because it makes it impossible not to see what her family tried to carve into her.

My eyes trace the lines along her back despite myself.

The scars aren’t chaotic.

They’re deliberate.

Measured. Even.

Placed with intention.

That’s what twists something sharp in my chest.

This wasn’t rage.

It wasn’t punishment gone too far.

It was ritual.

Vincenzo Moretti didn’t lose control when he marked his daughter.

He planned it.

I feel my jaw tighten as we descend the stairs, each step grinding that truth deeper. I’ve ordered men hurt before. I’ve sanctioned violence. I’ve ended bloodlines without losing sleep.

But this?

This was cruelty disguised as tradition.

He took a child and taught her pain before she learned safety. Took choice away and replaced it with obedience. And then—when she didn’t break the way he wanted—he tried to erase her entirely.

I curl my fingers once at my side, slow and controlled.

If Vincenzo thinks I’ll treat this like business as usual…

He’s already dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Aria doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t need to.

I make a silent promise as we reach the bottom of the stairs:

No one ever lays a hand on her like that again.

Not in my house.

Not in my city.

Not while I’m breathing.

And when I lead her into the room where everyone is waiting, I make sure they all see it—

She’s with me.

And anyone who forgets that will learn exactly how unforgiving I can be.

Danika is already seated at the table when we enter, one leg crossed over the other, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. Rocco stands near the wall, arms folded. Marco hovers stiffly at the far end like he expects the floor to give out beneath him at any second.

James arrives last.

Quiet. Efficient. No wasted movement. He nods once at me and takes his place without being told. If I needed a body buried, a trail erased, or a city mapped down to its bones—James is who I call.

I don’t sit.

I don’t waste time.

“Here’s what’s happening,” I say.

The room stills.

“Vincenzo Moretti put a public bounty on Aria. Five hundred thousand. Chain hit. Location attached.”

I glance at Marco. “That’s why Dale was here.”

Rocco exhales sharply. Danika’s jaw tightens.

“Dale was executed,” I continue. “By me. His phone confirms the bounty was distributed to multiple contractors.”

James finally speaks. “Meaning this won’t stop.”

“No,” I agree. “It accelerates.”

Danika turns to Aria. “So… honest question.”

Aria looks at her calmly.

“Are you still planning on killing my brother?”

The room holds its breath.

Aria doesn’t answer right away.

Good.

When she does speak, her voice is steady—no dramatics, no bravado.

“I still have the urge to kill everyone in this room,” she says plainly. “That doesn’t disappear overnight.”

Marco stiffens.

She continues, unfazed. “I was trained for that. Conditioned for it. I can’t just flip a switch.”

She meets my eyes briefly, then looks back at the table.

“But I can control myself.”

Silence.

James studies her like a puzzle he respects.

Danika nods slowly. “Fair answer.”

Marco scoffs. “That’s not reassuring.”

I turn my head just enough to look at him.

“Neither is your tone,” I say.

Marco swallows but pushes on. “Why does she have to stay here? Why don’t you leave, go find her father, and end this at the source?”

I don’t raise my voice.

I don’t need to.

“Because that’s exactly what Vincenzo wants,” I say calmly. “He wants her isolated. He wants me distracted. He wants one of us exposed.”

James nods. “Bait.”

“Yes,” I say. “And Aria knows his patterns better than anyone alive.”

Marco looks at her, then back at me. “So she just… stays?”

“She stays,” I confirm. “Because she’s not a liability.”

I look around the table.

“She’s leverage. Intelligence. And the reason we’re not already bleeding worse.”

Danika smirks. “Also because you’re stubborn.”

I ignore that.

James folds his hands. “What’s her status?”

I answer without hesitation.

“Protected. Allied. Under my authority.”

Marco opens his mouth.

I cut him off. “That wasn’t an invitation.”

Aria shifts beside me—not restless, not afraid. Ready.

“This ends one of two ways,” I continue. “Vincenzo backs off. Or we dismantle him piece by piece.”

Danika’s eyes gleam. “I vote for the second.”

James nods. “Already running financial traces.”

Rocco straightens. “Security protocols are updated.”

I look back at Aria.

“And you,” I say quietly, “don’t go anywhere alone. You don’t engage without clearance. And you don’t disappear.”

She meets my gaze.

“I won’t,” she says. “Not without a plan.”

Good answer.

Marco finally exhales. “This is insane.”

I lean forward slightly, palms on the table.

“No,” I say evenly. “This is war.”

And then I add, for everyone to hear:

“Anyone who has a problem with that can leave now.”