The city never slept.
But neither did Aria.
She hadn't meant to check into a hotel. But her hands had shaken too much to drive home. And home—what even was that anymore?
The penthouse hadn't been hers. The apartment she once rented had been cleared out and sold while she was buried in Julian's world. Even the coffee shop on 9th Street, where she used to escape the noise, felt foreign.
Now she stood barefoot on the thirtieth floor of a downtown tower, her suitcase at her feet, staring through a rain-slick window at the chaos below.
Julian had let her go.
But his voice still lived inside her head.
His touch lingered on her skin.
And the file—the one she hadn't dared take with her—felt like a gaping wound in her chest. Her name had been in it. Her life. Her pain. Mapped, measured, categorized. By the man who had claimed to love her.
She closed her eyes.
Freedom. She had it now.
But it tasted like grief.
—
The knock came at 3 a.m.
Three short raps. Sharp. Measured.
Aria froze.
No one knew she was here.
Her hands moved before her brain caught up—palming the hotel phone and dialing the front desk.
But no one answered.
Another knock.
Then a voice—familiar. Too familiar.
"Don't panic, Thorn. Just open the door."
Her heart plummeted.
She opened it.
Damon Ross.
Julian's former fixer.
And the man she'd once caught watching her from a black SUV outside her university.
He smiled, all cold teeth and slick confidence.
"Still dramatic," he said.
She didn't move. "How did you find me?"
"You're not that hard to trace when you're scared." He leaned on the doorframe. "Julian told me to keep my distance. I didn't listen."
"You're not with him anymore."
"No." Damon's smirk vanished. "That's why we need to talk."
She crossed her arms. "About what?"
"About who's about to bury you both."
—
He didn't wait for permission—just stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
"I was loyal to Julian," Damon said, pacing. "I handled his messes, scrubbed his records, fed his enemies until they choked. But he made a mistake."
Aria watched him. "Let me guess. You?"
Damon grinned. "No. You."
She said nothing.
Damon pulled a tablet from his coat and tapped the screen. "You saw part of the ledger. But not the second half."
The screen filled with images—documents, transfers, accounts that spanned years.
"They weren't just cleaning money," Damon said. "They were funneling it through foundations. One of which Julian handed to you."
Aria's blood turned to ice. "The foundation I'm running?"
"Bingo."
She stared. "So I'm implicated."
"You're the face. And if someone wants Julian gone, they'll come for you first."
She sat down on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. "Why are you helping me?"
Damon's smirk returned, just slightly.
"Because if they take you down, I go with you. And I'm not ready to burn just yet."
—
An hour later, Aria stood in the hotel bathroom, staring at her reflection.
Everything felt unhinged.
Her life. Her choices. Her identity.
She wasn't the woman she'd been three months ago.
And she wasn't the girl Julian had chained to his side, no matter how much he tried to convince her otherwise.
But she wasn't free yet either.
The knock at the door came again—quieter this time.
She opened it, half expecting another ghost.
But it was Rhea.
Her oldest friend.
The only person who'd stood by her when Aria's world began to fracture.
"Jesus," Rhea said, stepping inside. "You look like hell."
"Thanks."
Rhea pulled her into a hug. "I called your apartment. Then your office. Then Julian's. And when no one answered, I figured either you were dead or finally done pretending you were okay."
"I'm not okay," Aria said softly.
Rhea pulled back, searching her eyes. "Tell me everything."
And for the first time, Aria did.
—
They stayed up until sunrise.
And by the time the sky turned pale and the city began to hum again, Aria felt something she hadn't felt in days.
Clarity.
"I need to go back," she said.
Rhea raised a brow. "To him?"
"To the source," Aria clarified. "To the foundation. To the files. To the rot. If they're using me, I want to know how."
Rhea hesitated. "You'll be walking back into the fire."
"I was born in it."
—
She arrived at the foundation office just before noon.
Damon trailed behind her like a silent shadow. The man might've switched sides, but he hadn't lost his edge. Every glance he cast was calculated. Every movement, quiet power.
Inside, the office buzzed like any other corporate space—emails, phones, paper trails.
But Aria felt the tension underneath.
Eyes flicked toward her as she passed.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
She was being watched.
She went straight to the server room.
The tech lead, a young man named Theo, jumped when she entered.
"Miss Thorn," he said, startled. "Didn't know you were in today."
"I need access to the encrypted archive."
He blinked. "That's…not part of your usual level."
She stepped forward, voice calm but firm. "Then elevate me."
Theo hesitated. "I'll need clearance from—"
She cut him off. "You want a signed warrant? Or do you want to still have a job next week?"
He swallowed. "Right. One second."
Within minutes, she was in.
The files weren't just documents.
They were surveillance logs.
Dates, times, internal correspondence, some of it tied to offshore contractors.
And every single trail led back to one name.
Silas Ward.
She sat back, heart pounding.
Silas Ward had been Julian's silent partner once. A ghost in the shell. He disappeared years ago after a deal went nuclear and left two men dead in a parking garage in Prague.
Julian had told her he was gone.
Apparently not.
—
She returned to the hotel that night, adrenaline thrumming.
Julian was already there.
He stood in the middle of the suite like he'd never left. The windows behind him glowed with citylight. His coat was still damp from the rain.
"You broke into my system," he said.
Aria didn't flinch. "You built it on my name."
"Do you have any idea what you've exposed?"
She stepped closer. "I know everything now. The ledger. Silas. The way you let me take the fall."
His jaw ticked. "I never—"
"You put the chain in my hands," she said, voice rising. "You made me think I could trust you. Then you turned me into leverage."
"I turned you into a weapon."
"No," she said, softer now. "You turned me into you."
Silence fell.
Then Julian whispered, "I don't know how to be anything else."
It should've broken her.
Instead, it hardened her spine.
"I'm not here to fall apart, Julian," she said. "I'm here to finish what you started."
He stepped toward her.
"And what's that?"
She looked him in the eye.
"To burn it all down."