Chapter 4

"So you'll take away his daughter's life instead?" Adrian shook his head. "How does that make you different from him?"

"I don't care about being different. I care about evening the scales."

Adrian was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You know this won't bring David back."

"No." I returned to my desk, picked up my phone. "But it will make me feel something other than empty."

My eyes fell on the photo frame beside my computer. Young David, fourteen years old, grinning at the camera during our last family vacation. Alive. Happy. Before the medication his doctor prescribed destroyed his organs from the inside out.

Beside David's photo was another, a surveillance shot from the club. Aria on stage, sequined top catching the lights, her face a mask of forced smiles.

"She looks like her mother," I said quietly. "Same eyes. Chen used to brag about his beautiful wife, his perfect daughters at company events. He'd show everyone pictures while my brother was dying because of documents he destroyed."

I picked up my phone, pressed a button. "Marcus, prepare the car. It's time."

Adrian grabbed my arm. "Don't do this. Please. There's still time to walk away."

I pulled free. "Three years I've waited. Three years I've planned. I'm not stopping now."

"Then God help you both." Adrian walked toward the door, then paused. "And when this is over, when you've destroyed her and you still feel empty, don't come crying to me."

The door closed behind him with a soft click. I stood alone in my office, surrounded by screens showing different angles of Aria's life. I'd studied her for three years. Knew her habits, her routines, her weaknesses. I knew she took the bus because she couldn't afford car insurance. Knew she worked two jobs before I got her fired. Knew she visited Lila every day, bringing books she couldn't afford and hope she didn't have.

I knew everything about her except the one thing I needed to know: Would she break? Time to find out.

POV: Aria Chen

The sound of a car door slamming jerked me awake. I sat up on the couch, disoriented. The apartment was dark except for the streetlight filtering through thin curtains. My phone said 2:07 AM.

Another car door. I stumbled to the window and looked down. A sleek black car sat at the curb, engine running. The same car from the hospital. The same car from the club parking lot. My blood went cold.

This wasn't coincidence. Someone was following me. My phone buzzed. Unknown number. The text message was simple: "Come downstairs. Now."

My hands shook as I typed back: "Who is this?"

The response came immediately: "Someone who can save your sister. You have 5 minutes. Then I leave, and she dies."

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs. This had to be a joke. A prank. Some sick—

The back door of the car opened.A figure sat in shadow, waiting. I couldn't see their face, but I could feel their patience. Their certainty that I would come.

My eyes found Lila's photo on the nightstand, her sixteenth birthday, three months before she got sick. She was laughing, covered in cake frosting from our food fight, so alive and young and full of future.

You have 5 minutes. Then I leave, and she dies. I grabbed my jacket and ran.

POV: Aria Chen

The street was empty at two in the morning. My breath came out in white puffs as I approached the black car, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

The back door opened from the inside. A man stepped out, and even in the dim streetlight, I could see he was nothing like the men I was used to dealing with. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a suit that probably cost more than six months of my rent. His face was all sharp angles and cold calculation, but it was his eyes that stopped me, gray, piercing, like he could see every secret I'd ever kept.

The man from the club. The one who'd been watching me.

"Get in." His voice was deep, commanding. Not a request.

I stayed frozen on the sidewalk. "I don't know who you are.."

"Damian Veyron." He said it like I should recognize the name. "And yes, you do know who I am. Your father certainly did."

The mention of my father hit me like a physical blow. "What?"

"Get in the car, Aria. Unless you'd prefer to discuss your sister's death certificate here on the street." He gestured to the open door. "Your choice. But I don't repeat myself."

My legs moved before my brain caught up. I climbed into the car, and he slid in beside me. The door closed with a heavy click that sounded like a prison cell locking.

+++++++++

The interior was all luxury leather and polished wood. A privacy screen separated us from the driver. Damian sat across from me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, something expensive and dark that made my head spin.

He studied me like I was a specimen under glass. Not the way men at the club looked at me, this was different. Colder. More calculating.

"How do you know about Lila?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"I know everything about you." He pulled out a tablet, scrolling through what looked like files. "Your sister needs thirty thousand dollars for treatment. The first payment is due Friday. Your rent is eight hundred and fifty dollars, also due Friday. You just lost your job at the Velvet Room. You have sixty-three dollars and twelve cents in your bank account. You have no options left."