The city never slept, but tonight, it screamed.
From the rooftop of an abandoned high-rise, Dominic stood still as the wind whipped through his coat. Below, the streets bled red and blue lights. Sirens howled in the distance. His phone buzzed again in his coat pocket, but he didn't reach for it. Not yet.
Matteo was pacing behind him, frustration barely hidden.
"You've gone silent for ten minutes. That's ten minutes we don't have, Dom."
Dominic finally exhaled, slow and sharp. "Adrian wants me to lose control."
"Well, congratulations," Matteo snapped. "You're doing exactly that."
Dominic turned, eyes burning like smoldering coals. "We follow his game, he wins. He wants me to rush in and burn everything down blind."
"Aria is running out of time!"
A silence fell between them, heavy and bitter.
Dominic finally took out his phone. One new message. No words. Just a location pin. Somewhere in the Lower District, near the abandoned tunnels that hadn't seen sunlight in decades.
A trap. No doubt. But it was the only breadcrumb he had.
"Get Luca and Dante. We move in twenty."
Matteo paused. "You're sure about this?"
"No," Dominic said. "But I'm not waiting for another video of her strapped to a bed and screaming."
---
In the underbelly of the city, where light didn't dare enter, Aria was still bound. Cassandra was gone. No one had come in hours. The cold crept into her bones, and her stomach twisted with hunger, but she kept herself awake by replaying Dominic's voice in her head.
You're safe now.
That was what he had said the night he'd first taken her in. But it hadn't been true. Not really. Safety around Dominic Moretti was a fragile illusion, easily shattered by the weight of his world. She knew that now.
The camera in the corner blinked red.
She stared into it.
"Tell him I'm not afraid," she said aloud, voice cracking from dryness. "Tell him I'm waiting."
The camera stopped blinking.
Her breath hitched. A low hum started—faint, mechanical. Then the wall to her left shuddered. A panel opened slowly, revealing a hallway dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights.
A test.
She didn't hesitate.
Feet numb, shoulders screaming, Aria forced herself up and stumbled through the opening. Her wrists still tied, she had to brace against the walls for balance.
The hallway stretched into nothing. Then came the voices.
Whispers. Muted. In Italian.
She stopped.
One voice was familiar.
Dominic?
She pressed herself to the wall and inched forward. The hallway opened into a room filled with monitors. Screens flickered with live footage of streets, tunnels, buildings—all places Dominic might try to look. In the center stood Adrian, his back to her, watching a live feed of the Lower District. Men in masks were planting something under a bridge.
Explosives.
Her pulse thundered.
"You're late," Adrian said suddenly.
Aria froze.
He turned, holding a champagne flute, as if she were merely a guest who'd wandered into the wrong part of the mansion.
"I said walk the corridor, not sneak into mission control," he said lightly.
Aria straightened. "You underestimate me."
Adrian smiled. "That's what Dominic said, once."
"Why him?" she asked.
Adrian's smile faded. "Because he was supposed to be me."
She stared.
"I was the one who bled for his empire. While his father watched him become king, I cleaned the blood off the floors. Then he left me behind. For his throne. For his name."
Adrian stepped closer.
"But now, when I rip you away from him, he'll understand what it's like to lose something real."
Aria didn't blink.
"Then do it," she said. "Kill me."
Adrian's laugh was soft and eerie. "Kill you? No. I want you to watch him break."
---
Thirty minutes later, Dominic and his men descended through the hidden entrance of the Lower District. The tunnels stank of mildew and rust, the air thick with dust and secrets. He had mapped these paths years ago—when he was still a prince in the underworld, not its ruler.
"Movement up ahead," Luca whispered, weapon drawn.
They pressed forward. Through the darkness. Past sleeping rats and broken dreams. And then they saw the first body.
One of Adrian's men, throat slit. Still warm.
"She was here," Dominic muttered.
"How do you know?" Dante asked.
Dominic crouched beside the body. The man's hand was clenched, fingers wrapped around a familiar locket. Silver. Small.
Aria's.
His fist closed around it.
"She's still fighting."
---
Aria was running again. Through another maze of halls. This time without direction. The moment Adrian had turned his back, she'd grabbed the edge of the table and smashed the monitor. It gave her enough time to grab the shard and slice through the rope on her wrists. She didn't look back.
Behind her, alarms blared.
In front of her, a single exit sign flickered above an iron door.
She reached it just as it slammed open.
And there he was.
Dominic.
Dirty. Bleeding. Alive.
She froze.
So did he.
For a second, neither moved.
Then she ran straight into him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, his coat swallowing her like armor. She could barely breathe.
"You found me," she whispered.
His voice was gravel. "I never stopped."
But before she could respond, a gunshot split the air.
Dominic flinched and pulled her behind him.
Dante shouted from down the hall. "We've got company!"
More shots.
"Go!" Dominic yelled. "Luca, get her out!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Aria shouted.
He turned to her, eyes blazing.
"You're not my weakness, Aria. You're my reason. Now go."
She wanted to scream, wanted to stay, but Luca grabbed her and yanked her down another hallway.
Dominic turned toward the enemy fire, eyes steady. Heart numb.
He'd gotten her back.
Now he just had to survive long enough to keep her.