Chapter 12 — First Strike
Morning came quietly.
The kind of quiet that feels wrong.
Aria woke first.
Adrian's presence was still beside her—still, controlled, breathing slow and deep. He slept like someone who had learned to be ready to wake in an instant. Even unconscious, his body remained coiled, aware.
Aria watched him for a moment — not with softness, but with recognition.
He wasn't peace in her life.
He was war that finally stood on her side.
She got out of bed carefully and stepped into the main room.
Her phone was waiting for her on the counter.
Three messages.
All from the same unknown number.
Rafael.
1. You slept beside him. Good.
2. I want him to know what it feels like to lose you.
3. Check the news.
Aria's pulse didn't spike.
It simply dropped.
Cold.
Controlled.
She opened the news.
And there it was.
KANE INTERNATIONAL STOCK DECLINES 7% OVERNIGHT
Anonymous leak suggests CEO under investigation.
No source.
No confirmation.
No truth.
Just a spark.
But sparks make fire, when placed correctly.
Aria didn't gasp.
She didn't panic.
She just stood absolutely still — calculating.
Adrian entered the room quietly, wearing a black shirt and a calm expression that didn't belong to a man whose empire was being attacked.
He noticed her silence.
"What happened?" he asked.
She held out the phone.
Adrian read it.
He didn't curse.
He didn't react.
He just set the phone down.
And smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
It was a promise.
"He wants my attention," Adrian said. "He wants a game."
Aria nodded once. "He always starts this way. Indirect pressure. Rumors. Whispers. A show of power before he makes his real move."
"And what does he expect us to do?" Adrian asked.
"Fight the rumor," Aria said. "Go defensive. Scramble."
Adrian looked at her.
"We won't."
"No," Aria agreed. "We won't."
Their eyes met.
A shared language spoken without words.
Adrian stepped close.
"What does he expect you to do?" he asked.
Aria's jaw tightened.
"Reach out to him."
"To ask for help," Adrian finished.
Aria nodded once.
"That's his first trap."
Adrian took her chin gently — not to hold her, but to ensure she met his eyes.
"Do you want to call him?"
Aria's breath stilled.
This was not jealousy.
Not control.
A test.
A question of choice.
"No," Aria said.
"Then we don't play his game," Adrian said. "We make him play ours."
Aria exhaled — slow, steady — and something inside her chest settled.
Not calm.
Alignment.
---
They arrived at Kane International's headquarters.
The building buzzed with nervous energy. Whispers. Fear. Headlines repeating like echoes in people's phones.
But when Adrian and Aria stepped inside—
The atmosphere changed.
Because they didn't look shaken.
They looked dangerous.
Meetings were called. Lawyers questioned. Financial analysts scrambled.
But Adrian did not join them.
He walked straight into the executive boardroom, Aria at his side.
The board members stood.
"Mr. Kane—" one of them began, voice tight.
Adrian didn't let him finish.
"Someone thinks we're vulnerable," he said. "Let's prove them wrong."
The board straightened — not because he sounded confident, but because he sounded certain.
Aria stepped forward.
Her voice was calm, cold, precise.
"This isn't an attack on our finances. It's an attack on our perception. If we scramble to deny it, we look guilty. If we argue, we look afraid. So we do the opposite."
Everyone listened.
Aria continued:
"We leak our own data first. Before any investigation begins. We show we have nothing to hide. We make the story old before it can spread. The rumor dies in a day."
The room was silent.
Then—
Adrian spoke:
"We are not prey."
Aria finished:
"We are the hunters."
The board nodded.
Fear melted.
Direction formed.
War strategy begins.
---
When the meeting ended, Adrian and Aria walked out together.
Not touching.
But close enough that no one looking at them could misunderstand:
This was not a CEO and his wife.
This was a united front.
Once they stepped into Adrian's office and the door closed behind them—
Aria finally let out the breath she had been holding.
Adrian watched her.
Not pity.
Just presence.
"You did well," he said.
Aria gave a faint exhale — almost a laugh, but with no humor.
"I spent years learning how to dismantle power," she said. "Now I'm using it to protect someone else. It feels… backwards."
"Or," Adrian said quietly, "it feels like you finally get to choose where your weapon points."
Aria's throat tightened.
She didn't reply.
Adrian stepped closer again — slowly, deliberately — giving her room to pull away.
She didn't.
Their faces were close now.
Close enough to feel the warmth of breath.
But not touching.
"Rafael came back to reclaim what he thinks is his," Adrian said softly.
"But you were never his."
Aria looked up at him.
"And what am I now?"
Adrian's voice was a whisper.
"Free."
Aria's breath broke.
Not in weakness.
In relief.
But before the moment could shift—
Her phone vibrated.
Rafael.
Again.
One message.
Check the lobby.
Aria and Adrian looked at each other.
They went to the window.
And saw him.
Standing outside the building.
Looking up.
Smiling.
As if he had been waiting.
---