The armored Maybach glided to a smooth stop. The imposing steel gates of the Cross estate loomed overhead, casting long, dark shadows in the pale moonlight. Kieran did not wait for his driver to open the door. He stepped out and reached inside, hauling Aria out by her upper arm.
"Walk," Kieran commanded, his deep voice leaving no room for any argument. "Unless you prefer to be carried inside like a petulant child."
"I can walk perfectly fine," Aria snapped furiously, yanking her arm out of his iron grasp. She rubbed her bicep, glaring at the massive stone manor. It looked less like a home and far more like a military compound. Heavily armed guards patrolled the expansive perimeter with assault rifles.
"Good," Kieran said, gesturing casually toward the heavy oak double doors of the main entrance. "Because the Syndicate Council will be voting on your ultimate fate by tomorrow morning. I need you completely functional and cooperative."
"Voting on my fate?" Aria echoed, her heart rate accelerating rapidly as she walked up the stone steps. "You bought me. I thought you said I was under your absolute jurisdiction."
"I bought you from a rogue auction," Kieran corrected her as they stepped into the incredibly grand foyer. The marble floors gleamed under a massive crystal chandelier. "Vargas is already filing a formal grievance with the elders. He claims my massive bid violated the established treaty of the five ruling families."
"So you will just hand me over to him?" Aria asked, stopping abruptly at the base of the sweeping marble staircase. She looked up at him with pure defiance.
"I do not hand over what is mine," Kieran replied smoothly. He paused on the first step to look down at her, his blue eyes piercing right through her. "But the Council demands a valid reason for my blatant interference tonight. They want to know exactly why the daughter of the late Architect is worth fifty million dollars and a potential street war."
"And what exactly will you tell them?" Aria challenged, crossing her arms.
"I will tell them the absolute truth," Kieran said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I will tell them you are the only biological key to the massive vault your father secured before his unfortunate demise. The Syndicate needs that money, Aria. And I need the encrypted ledger hidden inside it."
"I told you before, I do not know where it is," Aria gritted her teeth.
"We will see about that," Kieran murmured. He turned and continued walking up the stairs.
Aria had no choice but to follow him. Two massive guards trailed closely behind them, blocking any chance of retreat. Kieran led her down a incredibly long, dimly lit corridor. He stopped in front of a heavy steel door that looked entirely out of place in the opulent mansion. He pressed his right thumb to a glowing biometric scanner mounted on the wall. The heavy door hissed open with a loud mechanical clunk.
"Welcome to your new quarters," Kieran announced, stepping aside so she could enter.
Aria cautiously walked into the room. It was incredibly spacious and luxurious. It featured a massive king size bed, plush velvet chairs, and a stunning view of the sprawling estate grounds below. But the luxury was a very thin veil. There were no handles on the inside of the heavy mahogany doors. The massive bay windows were sealed completely shut.
"This is a prison cell," Aria observed coldly, turning back to face him.
"It is a sanctuary," Kieran corrected her, leaning casually against the door frame. "Hector Vargas put a massive two million dollar bounty on your head ten minutes after we left the auction house. Every low level thug and contract killer in this city is currently looking for you. If you step outside these walls, you will be dead or worse before sunrise."
"How incredibly comforting," Aria muttered sarcastically, her hands balling into tight fists. "How long do you plan to keep me locked inside here?"
"Until you give me the exact location of the drive," Kieran stated plainly, his expression hardening into stone. "Get some sleep, Aria. You look terrible. We will resume our lovely chat tomorrow morning."
The heavy steel door slammed shut. The locking mechanism engaged with a terrifying, absolute finality.
Aria stood perfectly still in the center of the luxurious room. The absolute silence of the room was deafening. The frantic adrenaline that had kept her standing for the last three hours finally evaporated completely.
Her legs buckled underneath her. She collapsed onto the thick Persian rug, her chest heaving with dry, agonizing sobs. The crushing reality of her situation hit her like a physical blow. Her father was truly gone. She was completely alone in the world. Sold to a ruthless monster. Hunted by violent cartels.
She curled her knees up tightly to her chest, burying her face inside her dirty hands. She allowed the hot tears to fall freely. She gave herself exactly three minutes to be weak. Three minutes to deeply mourn the man who raised her. Three minutes to feel the absolute terror of her reality.
When the invisible timer in her head was up, Aria wiped her face roughly with the back of her torn sleeve. She took a deep, shuddering breath and forced herself to stand up straight.
The terrified captive was gone. The survivor took over completely.
Aria began pacing the perimeter of the room. Her eyes darted quickly across the ornate crown molding, scanning for tiny black glass lenses. She spotted three cameras immediately. One positioned directly above the door, one aimed straight at the bed, and one tucked in the far right corner. But the small hallway leading to the bathroom created a slight blind spot. She mentally noted the location immediately.
She walked over to the massive bay window and struck the glass as hard as she could with her elbow. It did not even vibrate. Bulletproof and heavily reinforced. There was absolutely no escape that way.
She moved quickly to the heavy wooden dresser positioned against the far wall. She began pulling out every single drawer, checking the wood for false bottoms or hidden secret compartments. She needed a weapon. A sharp piece of metal, a heavy glass paperweight, anything she could use to defend herself when Kieran returned.
As she forcefully yanked out the very bottom drawer, her knuckles scraped roughly against something coarse hidden underneath the heavy wood frame.
Aria froze instantly. She dropped to her knees, laying completely flat on the carpeted floor. She grabbed the dim light from the bedside lamp and shined it directly under the heavy piece of furniture.
A small, thick manila envelope was taped securely to the underside of the dresser.
Aria peeled the strong tape back carefully, her hands shaking slightly with anticipation. She slid the sealed envelope out and sat back on her heels. She tore open the flap quickly. Inside was a single, glossy photograph.
Aria stared down at the image. All the oxygen rushed out of her lungs in a single second.
It was a candid picture of her father. He was sitting at a small outdoor cafe, wearing his favorite gray coat, deeply engrossed in reading a local newspaper.
The date printed clearly on the front page of the newspaper he was holding was from exactly two days ago.
Months after he was supposedly murdered.