A Maid in a Lion's Den
Morning arrived quietly inside the mansion.
Too quietly.
Mira stood in the kitchen, exhausted fingers gripping the edge of the counter as she placed the tray down. The place still didn't feel real — the marble floors, the silence, the weight of eyes she couldn't see.
She swallowed.
"What should I do, Aria…?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely louder than her breathing.
There was no answer.
Only the hum of the house.
She picked up the tray again — coffee prepared exactly as instructed — and forced herself to move. Each step up the stairs felt heavier than the last. When she reached his room, she stopped.
Her fingers tightened around the tray.
She inhaled.
Then walked in.
Kian Drake stood in front of the mirror, a dark robe wrapped loosely around him. Water still clung to his hair. His eyes lifted instantly — catching her reflection behind him.
They darkened.
"What the hell?" he said coldly, turning slowly. "Don't you know how to knock?"
Her head dropped immediately. "I'm sorry, I was just—"
"Put the tray down," he cut in sharply, his voice low but lethal.
"And get out."
Not loud.
Not angry.
Dangerous.
Her body flinched instinctively. She placed the tray down with trembling hands and rushed out, heart pounding violently as the door shut behind her.
She didn't know it yet.
But this house wasn't a cage.
It was a battlefield.
The Plan Takes Shape
The headquarters buzzed quietly with tension.
Aria sat at the head of the table, calm on the surface — deadly focused beneath. Lena and Evan sat across from her, listening closely.
"Lena," Aria said, her tone controlled, "you'll stay connected with me the entire time. No delays. No missed signals."
Lena nodded. "Always."
Aria turned to Evan. "You'll trace my location wherever I go. If anything goes wrong, I want an exit ready."
Evan straightened. "Already set."
Aria stood, resting her palms lightly on the table.
"Got everything?" she asked.
They both nodded.
"Good," Aria said quietly.
"Let's begin the destruction of Kian Drake."
A King Dresses for War
Kian stood before the mirror again — this time dressed in a sharp black suit.
Perfect.
Controlled.
Deadly.
He picked up a gold watch from the table and fastened it around his wrist. The click echoed through the room.
Satisfied, he ran a hand through his hair and turned, walking out.
His footsteps echoed down the stairs.
That's when his eyes caught her.
Mira stood by the window, staring out at the world she couldn't reach.
"Hey," he said coldly.
She flinched and turned.
"You look free," he remarked, stepping closer. "Don't worry. I'll fix that."
Her gaze dropped instantly. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Outside, the car waited.
Kian slid into the backseat.
The engine roared to life.
Masks and Lies
Aria adjusted the black dress that wrapped her figure — elegant, modest, powerful. Her reflection stared back at her, unreadable.
She walked toward the car and paused.
"Ready?" she asked calmly, extending her hand.
Evan took it, his grip light, rehearsed. "Always, Miss Astra Vale," he said — her temporary name.
The doors closed.
And the city swallowed them whole.
The Gathering of Wolves
Blackthorne Docks glowed under dim lights.
Men in tailored suits. Sharp eyes. Dangerous smiles.
The mafia meeting had begun.
Kian entered the hall.
He wasn't alone.
Mira walked beside him — dressed exactly as he ordered. Hair softly curled. Makeup minimal. Controlled.
He offered his arm.
She hesitated.
His brow lifted.
She took it.
They stepped inside together
The First Collision
Aria and Evan entered moments later.
"You track me after the first move," Aria whispered.
Evan nodded.
A man approached them. "Mr. Hale," he greeted Evan. "Pleasure."
"The pleasure's mutual," Evan replied smoothly.
They played their roles perfectly.
Then Aria saw him.
Kian.
And beside him—
Her breath caught.
"Mira…" Aria whispered.
Evan stiffened. "She's with him."
"Don't stare," Aria said sharply. "We continue."
Across the room, Kian spoke casually — unaware that fate had already shifted.
The first move was complete.
And there was no turning back.