Chapter 7

The morning light crept through the blinds, a pale intrusion against Aria’s fogged mind. The photograph lay on her coffee table..her body tangled with his, blurred at the edges but unmistakably intimate. Her stomach turned every time her eyes found it, a reminder of something she couldn’t define—half desire, half warning.

Who would have sent this? Why now?

She’d tried to convince herself it was a prank or a threat from one of her sources. But deep down, a voice she didn’t want to acknowledge whispered his name.

Dominic Valente.

She tucked the photo back into the envelope, her pulse tight. Whoever sent it knew where she lived. That alone was reason enough to panic.

Her phone buzzed, “Meet me. Usual spot.” It was Jenna from the Tribune, the one friend Aria still trusted in that shark tank of a newsroom.

Aria grabbed her coat and left, the envelope clutched like evidence of a crime she hadn’t realized she was part of.

The smell of burnt espresso and rain-soaked streets filled the air. Jenna was already there, a sharp bob and sharper instincts, stirring her coffee with the energy of someone who didn’t have time for nonsense.

Aria takes a seat opposite her and exhales heavily. “You want coffee?”

Jenna eyes her. “I guess I do,” she lazily answered.

“You’ve been staring at that coffee for ten minutes, babe. It’s either gonna cool off or file a complaint.” Worry creases Jenna's forehead.

Aria forces a smile.

“Just… thinking.”

“Uh-huh. Thinking, or overthinking?”

Aria exhales slowly, gaze fixed on the floor.

“You look like hell,” Jenna said, eyes flicking to the envelope in Aria’s hand. “And judging by that thing, it’s not just the weather.”

Aria slid the photo across the table. Jenna’s brows shot up. “Holy shit. Is that…?”

“Yes,” Aria said quietly. “Him.”

Jenna leaned back, whistling low. “So the mysterious man you wouldn’t shut up about is real. Dominic Valente. And apparently, he’s got... Extra credit in desire”

Aria frowned. “I don’t know how anyone got this. Or why they’d send it.”

“Aria,” Jenna said, lowering her voice. “If this came from him, it’s a warning. Guys like that don’t play games, they send messages.”

Aria looked away, jaw tightening. “Or it’s meant to scare me off the story.”

“Then it’s working,” Jenna said. “You look terrified.”

“I’m not terrified,” Aria lied. “I’m just... figuring it out.”

Jenna knew that look….the one that meant Aria had already made up her mind to do something reckless.

“I can’t back down now, Jen.”

I know, I know. I’m just… surprised. And maybe a little proud? But seriously, are you sure about what you’re doing?

Jenna looked at her determined colleague and sighed.

“Alright then. You know I’ve got your back, always. Just….be careful, okay?”

“Okay Jenn, I will”

Dominic’s office overlooked the East River, sunlight glinting off the steel and glass skyline. He stood by the window, sleeves rolled up, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. His men spoke quietly near the door…details about a shipment, a name, a threat, but his mind wasn’t in the room.

It was with her.

Aria Cole.

He’d sent the photo through an untraceable channel the night before, a move that had felt necessary at the time. A way to cover himself, to make it look like she had crossed a line.

But now, looking out over the city, he wasn’t sure why it didn’t feel like victory.

She’d gotten under his skin, fast, sharp, dangerous. Like a reporter shouldn’t.

“Boss?” his right-hand man, Luca, called softly. “You good?”

Dominic turned, the mask sliding back into place. “Yeah. Handle the dock situation. And find out if anyone’s been asking questions about me in the press.”

Luca nodded, but Dominic’s mind was already somewhere else. He’d underestimated her. That was his first mistake.

His second might’ve been wanting to see her again.

That night, Aria sat at her desk, the glow of her laptop painting her face in cold light. Dozens of open tabs filled the screen…business fronts, offshore accounts, missing persons tied to Valente’s name.

Every click brought her closer to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.

A sound outside her window made her freeze….a soft scrape, like a shoe on wet pavement. She stood slowly, her pulse loud in her ears. But when she looked, the alley was empty.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out there. Watching.

Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number. A text.

“You should stop digging, Aria.”

Her breath caught. Then another message.

“For your own good.”

The words were simple. The intent behind them wasn’t.

She stared at the screen, her heartbeat sharp and uneven.

And somewhere across the city, Dominic Valente watched his phone light up with the delivery notification, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

Because the warning wasn’t supposed to hurt him too.

She was becoming a fracture in his discipline, and she didn’t even know it. Every day, resisting her felt less like strength and more like self-punishment.

On the screen in front of him, a small security feed played, footage from the café. Aria’s movements. Her expressions. Every microsecond replayed.

He zoomed in. Her jaw tightened when she lied.

“Smart girl,” he murmured. “But not smart enough.”

“Why her? She’s a journalist. That’s trouble.” Luca frowned.

Dominic smirked faintly. “Because trouble’s how I test loyalty. Even my own.”

Rain hit the windows hard, blurring the city outside. Aria sat on her couch, laptop open, the glow painting her face pale.

She searched for his name again-Dominic Valente. Nothing official. Just rumors: business tycoon, investor, philanthropist. But beneath that….Whispers. Alleged syndicate connections. Missing persons.

She swallowed.

If he sent that picture… then he was watching her.

Aria froze.

Her breath hitched.

Someone was already one step ahead.

Dominic lit another cigarette and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke twist in the air like ghosts of old promises.

“She’ll come to me eventually,” he muttered.

Luca, beside him, smirked. “And if she doesn’t?”

Dominic’s smirk was faint, cold.

“Then I’ll give her a reason to.”