The attack didn't come with warning.
It came with silence.
The kind of silence that felt too still. Too measured.
By the time Rafael's team traced the breach in his company's systems, millions were gone.
Not money.
Data. Names. Secrets. Leverage.
And with it—every enemy he'd ever kept quiet through fear now had a reason to speak.
"Someone is trying to burn the empire from the inside," Angelo muttered, sliding the tablet across the table.
Rafael didn't even blink.
"Then we burn them first."
Across the city, Aaria's past resurfaced in the most unexpected way.
A call from a detective.
"Aaria Viraan, you're listed as a missing person."
She froze.
"I'm not missing."
"Not legally," the officer said. "But someone just came forward. Claims they're your family. Says they thought you were dead."
The name that followed nearly made her drop the phone.
Vikrant Mehra.
Her uncle.
The man who sold her out when she was sixteen.
The man who told her to "keep quiet" when she bled.
She hung up the call, heart pounding, bile in her throat.
She hadn't run far enough.
When Rafael found her sitting alone in the dark, knees drawn to her chest, he didn't need to ask.
She looked up.
"He found me."
His silence was ice.
"Who?"
She told him.
The room pulsed with his rage.
"You're not going back," he said.
"I never planned to."
"No, Aaria. I mean ever. You're not leaving my sight. Not the city. Not this building. You're mine."
Something about the way he said it didn't feel like a threat.
It felt like a vow.
Aaria stood, walked to him slowly. Her voice didn't shake.
"I'm not afraid of him."
"You should be afraid of me."
She looked him straight in the eye.
"I'm not afraid of you either."
His jaw tightened.
"Then maybe you don't understand how far I'd go."
She leaned in, her lips just a breath from his.
"I do," she whispered. "And that's why I stay."
Later that night, Rafael held her as though the entire world had declared war on them both.
And in truth—it had.
Enemies were gathering.
The wolves had tasted blood.
But Rafael had never feared being outnumbered.
He feared only one thing:
Losing her.
And as he stared down at her sleeping figure, the silk sheet tangled around her bare legs, his voice cracked into the dark:
"They can take everything I own. But not you.
Never you.
You belong to me—even in ruin."