Aria lingered near the glass balcony doors, arms crossed tightly across her chest as she watched the city pulse far below. Cars moved like ants in the distance. Neon lights blinked on skyscrapers, trying to outshine the stars above. But up here, it all felt like another world. Like she'd been plucked from the gutter and dropped into a palace built on blood.
She didn't belong here.
Behind her, the apartment was silent again. That man—whoever he was—had dragged Dominic down a hallway and out of sight. Aria had tried not to eavesdrop, but the tension in Dominic's face before he left told her enough.
Something was wrong.
The quiet buzz of a security panel near the door made her jump. A soft green light blinked once, then stopped. Cameras. Of course.
She was being watched.
Her mind screamed at her to leave. To run, even with cracked ribs and no plan. But where would she go? Back to the city that tried to chew her alive?
Back to the hands that bruised her?
She'd spent years surviving—barely. First foster homes. Then couch surfing. Then two years in a dead-end bookstore job, hiding behind cheap glasses and thick cardigans like they could shield her from the world. But none of it kept the monsters away. The ones who smiled to your face before they twisted the knife.
Dominic hadn't smiled.
And maybe that was why she hadn't run yet.
The door to the hallway opened, and Dominic strode back in. His jaw was tense, his sleeves rolled higher now, revealing more of the tattoos etched down his arms—sharp black ink with hidden meaning she couldn't begin to understand.
Behind him came the man from before. Late thirties, with piercing green eyes and a scar across his eyebrow that refused to heal straight. His name, Aria finally caught, was Luca.
Luca didn't bother pretending she wasn't there. He gave her a once-over, not leering, just… assessing. Like she was a variable in an equation he didn't trust.
"Are we keeping her?" he asked, voice low and gravel-edged.
Aria stiffened.
"She stays for now," Dominic answered without looking at her. "Someone needs to watch her."
"I'm not a dog," she snapped before she could stop herself.
Luca arched a brow. "Could've fooled me, the way you were bleeding out in an alley like a stray."
Dominic shot him a look, and Luca held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just saying. You don't usually pick up strays."
"This one's different," Dominic muttered, then turned to Aria. "Pack your things. We're leaving."
She blinked. "Leaving? To where?"
"Somewhere safer."
"Why? What happened?"
He met her eyes. "Do you want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Someone was following you the night I found you."
The words hit like a slap.
"That's not possible," she whispered.
"I don't deal in possibilities. I deal in facts. And fact is, a car tailed you into that alley. I only caught the tail end, but I've seen it before."
Her knees almost gave out. "You think… they were trying to kill me?"
Dominic's silence was answer enough.
Luca crossed his arms. "You piss someone off, sweetheart?"
Aria's stomach churned. She thought the worst was behind her when she'd escaped last week. But this—this was worse than fear. It was the feeling of the ground giving out beneath you.
"I don't know," she said, and it was almost true. "I mean—maybe. There were people at my old job. Customers. Men who followed me sometimes, but—"
Dominic held up a hand. "Later. We'll figure it out later. Right now, I'm getting you out of this apartment. I don't trust the security anymore."
"Where are you taking me?"
"My private house. North side. No one gets in or out without me knowing."
She hesitated. "That's even more isolated, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"You're locking me in."
"No," he said quietly. "I'm locking everyone else out."
There was something about the way he said it—so final, so unyielding—that made her shiver. Not from fear. From recognition.
He knew what it meant to be hunted.
Ten minutes later, they were in the back of another black SUV. Dominic didn't speak. Luca drove like he had demons on his tail, taking sharp turns through alleys and side streets. Aria sat between them, her heart racing.
After half an hour, they pulled into an underground garage. A sleek steel elevator waited, guarded by a man twice the size of Luca. Dominic nodded at him.
"Rafael," he said.
Rafael stepped aside without a word. Aria glanced up at him. Stone-faced. Not friendly, but not cruel either. Just another part of the machine Dominic controlled.
The elevator ride was silent until they reached the third floor.
Then Dominic turned to her.
"I have rules."
"Of course you do," she muttered.
"Number one: Don't go near the east wing. It's off-limits."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
Rule number two never came. The doors opened, and Aria stepped into a space that felt less like a house and more like a fortress. It wasn't sterile like the penthouse—it was darker, more personal. Heavy wood. Black leather. Art that made her uneasy.
She turned in a slow circle, taking it in.
"Who are you really?" she asked softly.
Dominic didn't answer. He simply walked past her and into another room.
But Luca lingered behind.
"You really don't know, do you?" he asked.
"Know what?"
Luca leaned closer, his voice like a whisper behind a blade.
"He's not just the guy who found you in the rain. He's Dominic Moretti. Head of the Moretti syndicate. He has over a hundred men who'd take a bullet for him. And twice as many who'd kill on command."
Her mouth went dry.
"You're not in a safe house," he added. "You're in a lion's den."
He turned and followed Dominic, leaving her frozen in place.
And for the first time since she woke up in that penthouse, Aria realized something she hadn't before.
She wasn't just in danger from the world outside.
She might be in just as much danger from the man who saved her.
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