Aria's wrists ached from the rope that bound her to the chair, the coarse strands biting into her skin with every shift of movement. Her heart pounded a violent rhythm against her ribs, not just from fear, but from rage. The room was small, dimly lit by a single, swaying bulb above her. The concrete walls were stained with damp patches, and there was no window, only a heavy steel door behind her. It felt like the bowels of hell, and Adrian was its keeper.
He sat across from her, legs crossed, calm as ever. A cigarette burned slowly between his fingers, the smoke curling up like a question mark. His gaze never left her face. She didn't flinch under it.
"You have his eyes," he murmured, like it was some great secret he'd just uncovered.
"If you're going to kill me, Adrian, do it already," Aria spat. "Stop playing house with your twisted fantasies."
He smirked. "Kill you? God no. That would be too easy. Too kind. And too brief."
He stood, walked slowly around her like a predator circling prey. "I want to show him what happens when he forgets the cost of betrayal. I want to destroy what he loves, piece by piece."
Aria twisted her wrists, ignoring the bite of the rope. "He'll come for me."
"I'm counting on it," Adrian said, his voice silk over steel. "He thinks you're still in that van, thinks he's bringing you home. But he's bringing someone else."
Her breath caught. "What did you do to her?"
Adrian paused behind her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Nothing permanent. Yet. She was useful. Convincing. But let's be honest, Aria… there's no replacing you."
Aria looked up, defiant. "You're sick."
He leaned closer, lips near her ear. "You haven't seen sick yet."
Then he was gone, the door slamming behind him with a deafening clang that echoed through her bones. The silence that followed was worse than his voice. It was thick with things unspoken. Aria leaned back, closing her eyes briefly.
She had to stay sharp. No tears. No fear. Dominic would come. He always did.
---
Miles away, the black SUV tore through the night like a bullet. Dominic's jaw was locked tight, his hands gripping the wheel harder than necessary. Matteo sat beside him, blood still drying on his sleeve. Luca was in the backseat, silent, pressing a cloth to his temple where a graze from a bullet had left a bleeding welt.
They had the girl—Adrian's decoy—sedated and lying across the seats. Her pulse was steady. But Dominic's wasn't.
"Say something," Matteo said after a long stretch of silence.
Dominic didn't blink. "That wasn't her."
"I know."
"She was already gone when we got there."
"I know."
Dominic's voice turned cold. "He planned it from the start. The resemblance. The timing. It was a message."
Luca leaned forward. "You really think Adrian has Aria?"
"I don't think," Dominic said. "I know."
Matteo looked at him. "Then we hunt him."
"No," Dominic growled. "We burn everything until she's found."
---
Aria wasn't alone for long. The door creaked open again, but this time, it wasn't Adrian who stepped in. It was a woman. Late thirties, sharp features, dark lipstick, heels that clicked against the cement. She was beautiful, in a cold and dangerous way, like a polished blade.
"I'm Cassandra," the woman said simply.
Aria didn't answer.
Cassandra smiled like she enjoyed the silence. "I used to be where you are now. A long time ago. Thought I could outsmart Adrian. Thought love could save me."
"You still here because you failed or because you gave in?" Aria asked.
Cassandra tilted her head. "Does it matter?"
Aria met her eyes. "To me, it does."
The woman shrugged and circled her. "You're a clever one. Strong too. But strength won't save you in here. Adrian doesn't break people with fists. He breaks their mind. Their loyalty. Their hope."
"You think I don't know what he is?" Aria said. "He's just a man who thinks he's a god."
Cassandra paused. "He's a god to the broken. And Dominic broke him a long time ago."
The words sank into Aria like ice. "What do you mean?"
"Dominic was his salvation. Once. Like a brother. Adrian would've followed him to hell. But when Dominic chose power, chose bloodlines, chose family over him… that was the beginning of the end."
Aria swallowed. "So this is revenge."
"Not just revenge," Cassandra whispered. "This is Adrian's last masterpiece. And you're the centerpiece."
Before Aria could respond, the lights flickered and died. Everything went black. Then a spotlight clicked on—harsh and bright—blinding her momentarily.
A projector whirred to life on the wall across from her.
And then the footage began.
It was Dominic. Beaten. Bound. Blood on his shirt. Kneeling.
Her heart dropped.
The audio kicked in.
Adrian's voice filled the room.
"You have one choice, Dominic. Her life or yours."
The screen glitched. Static. Then resumed.
Another angle.
This time it was Aria on screen. She was strapped to a gurney, screaming. Struggling. Another illusion—but it felt real.
"I can make her forget you," Adrian said from behind the camera. "Or I can make her hate you."
Aria screamed at the screen. "No! Dominic!"
But there was no sound but her own voice echoing off concrete.
Cassandra stood behind her, unmoved.
"You see now?" she said. "This isn't just about you. It's about who Dominic becomes without you. That's Adrian's real game. The fall."
Aria's tears burned hot. But she blinked them back.
Then she smiled.
It was small. Barely there. But it was enough to make Cassandra pause.
"What's funny?" she asked.
Aria's voice was calm.
"You forgot one thing."
"What?"
"I don't break easy. And Dominic doesn't lose."
The spotlight snapped off.
Darkness returned.
And somewhere outside, engines roared in the night.