Aria's hand clamped around mine like iron. Her entire body trembled, but she didn't break.
Victor wasn't just close. He was here.
Victor's voice carried like smoke through the night, low but sharp enough to pierce every shadow.
"Bring her to me."
Aria flinched at the sound, her hand gripping mine so tight her knuckles turned white. She didn't have to say his name. The tremor in her body told me everything—she knew him, even unseen.
The two men in the street straightened, their hooded heads turning toward our direction as if magnetized.
We had seconds. Maybe less.
I leaned close to Aria, whispering against her hair "On my word, we move. Don't let go. No matter what."
Her breath trembled, but her whisper came back fierce "I won't."
The men started forward, boots crunching against the wet pavement.
I scanned quickly—narrow alleys to the left, too exposed. A rusted fire escape overhead, but the ladder had been pulled up high. The only real path was forward, past the two shadows waiting to close in.
Good.
I squeezed her hand once "Now."
We broke from the doorway, sprinting into the street.
The first man shouted, lunging, but I drove my shoulder into his chest before he could react. He stumbled back, his hood falling to reveal a scarred face, eyes burning with cruel recognition.
Aria darted past me, just as I'd told her. I followed, twisting as the second man reached for me. His fingers grazed my jacket, but I slammed an elbow into his ribs and kept moving.
"Go, go!" I barked at Aria, pushing her forward.
Rain slicked the ground, making every step a risk, but adrenaline kept us upright.
Behind us, footsteps thundered. More than two now. Victor's men were multiplying in the shadows.
We rounded a corner into a wider street lit by a flickering streetlamp. Aria stumbled, nearly falling, but I caught her arm, dragging her upright.
"Keep going!" I urged.
But then, a figure stepped calmly into the pool of light ahead.
Not hooded.... Not hiding.
Victor.
My chest clenched.
Tall, immaculately dressed despite the storm, his presence was a knife cutting through the chaos. His eyes found Aria instantly, and the faintest smile curled his lips.
"There you are," he said softly, as if greeting an old lover instead of prey.
Aria froze. The tremble in her shoulders returned, her body locking in place. Fear rooted her to the spot.
I placed myself in front of her, shielding her from his gaze "You're not touching her."
Victor tilted his head, amused. His voice was calm, almost gentle, but each word carried poison.
"You think you can protect her? You don't know what she's done. You don't know who she really is."
I tightened my fists, steadying my breath "I don't need to. I know she's not yours."
Behind him, more shadows spilled into the street—men fanning out, circling. We were surrounded.
Aria clutched my arm, her whisper frantic "We can't win this—"
"Yes, we can," I cut in sharply, my eyes locked on Victor "But not by playing his game."
Victor took a step closer, the rain streaking down his face like tears he'd never shed. "Step aside," he said quietly "And I'll let you live."
I smirked, though my pulse thundered "Not a chance."
For a moment, silence stretched taut. Then Victor lifted his hand, fingers flicking in a lazy command.
"Take her."
The men surged forward.
And the street exploded into chaos.
They came at once—Victor's men flooding the street, boots slapping against wet pavement, shadows swallowing the edges of the light.
I shoved Aria behind me, my body moving before thought. The first attacker lunged, swinging wide. I caught his wrist, twisted hard, and used his momentum to slam him into the wall. Bone cracked against brick.
Another came from the side. I pivoted, caught him low with a knee to the stomach, and drove an elbow into the back of his neck as he doubled over.
But for every one that dropped, two more pushed forward.
Aria's hand gripped my jacket, but she didn't scream, didn't falter. She stayed close, just as she'd promised.
"Run!" I barked, shoving one man back, but her voice cut sharp over mine.
"No!"
Her refusal jolted through me, fiercer than the rain, louder than Victor's silent command.
I caught the next strike, spun the man around, and used his weight to block another's charge. Bodies crashed, curses spilled, the storm raged.
Victor hadn't moved. He stood calmly beneath the flickering streetlamp, his eyes fixed on us, on Aria. He didn't need to fight. His presence was enough, a puppeteer letting his hounds do the tearing.
Aria's nails dug into my arm suddenly. "There!" she gasped, pointing past the brawl.
An alley. Narrow, unlit, half-hidden by a collapsed awning.
Our only chance.
I slammed my fist into the jaw of the man closest to me, felt his teeth crack under the impact, then grabbed Aria's hand "Go!"
We sprinted, weaving through the chaos. A hand caught my sleeve, yanking me back—I tore free, spinning to drive a punch into the man's throat before shoving him aside.
The alley yawned open before us.
But just as we dove in, Victor's voice followed, smooth and venomous.
"You can run, Aria but you'll always be mine."
Her grip on my hand faltered for a heartbeat, her body flinching as if the words were shackles pulling her back.
I yanked her forward, my voice fierce against the storm "No..... Not anymore."
We plunged into darkness.
The alley twisted, narrow and suffocating, trash bins and broken pallets forcing us to dodge as we ran. Behind us, the shouts of pursuit echoed, but the rain muffled their steps.
Aria's breath came ragged, but she didn't slow. She kept pace with me, her fingers locked around mine like lifelines.
At last, the alley spat us out onto another street—quieter, emptier. The storm softened here, the city's noise returning faintly in the distance.
We staggered into the shadows of a shuttered storefront, pressing against the wall, chests heaving.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Only the sound of rain dripping from the awning above filled the silence.
Then Aria turned to me, her eyes wide and glistening "You saw him," she whispered "You saw him."
I nodded, my pulse still thundering "I did."
Her lips trembled, but her voice hardened "And now you know what I've been running from."
I reached up, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. She leaned into the touch, not fully, but enough.
"I don't care what he thinks he owns," I murmured "He doesn't get to have you. Not while I'm breathing."
Her eyes searched mine, a storm of fear and something more—something fragile but undeniable.
She let out a shaky breath, her forehead tipping lightly against my chest "Then don't stop breathing," she whispered.
I held her there, against the storm, against the memory of Victor's voice still echoing in the night.
For the first time, her trembling wasn't just from fear.
It was from the weight of wanting something more than survival.
We didn't stop running until the city swallowed Victor's voice.
By the time we ducked into the shelter of a half-collapsed bus station, my lungs burned, every muscle coiled tight from the fight. Aria slumped against the wall, her backpack sliding from her shoulders with a heavy thud. Her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts, but she hadn't let go of my hand.
Not once.
The storm had gentled into drizzle, the sound of rain tapping softly against the corrugated roof above us. The world outside felt muted, blurred, but inside the station the silence weighed heavy.
Aria pressed her palms over her face, muffling a broken sound that wasn't quite a sob. Her shoulders shook once, then stilled, as though she was forcing herself back into armor.
I knelt in front of her, careful not to crowd, but close enough that she couldn't retreat entirely into herself.
"Aria," I said softly.
She lowered her hands. Her eyes were red, wet, but fierce "You saw him.... You heard him. Now you know what I've been saying all along—he doesn't stop. He doesn't lose."
Her voice cracked on the last word, the fragility breaking through despite her defiance.
I shook my head "No.... He doesn't stop because no one's stood in his way. Until now."
She laughed bitterly, a sound that hurt more than silence "You think you can stand against him alone?"
"No," I admitted "But I'm not leaving you to face him alone either."
Her eyes softened, just barely. A storm still lived in them, but it flickered now with something else—a dangerous spark of hope.
I reached out, my hand brushing her damp hair back from her face. She didn't flinch this time. Instead, she leaned into the touch ever so slightly, her breath trembling out against my wrist.
"You don't know what he's capable of," she whispered "The things he's done… the things he'll do just to remind me I'm his."
The word his dripped with venom, with chains.
I felt anger coil inside me like fire "You're not his.... Not anymore."
She met my gaze, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came. Instead, her hand lifted, hesitant, then rested against my chest.