Chapter 14 — The Night It Began Again
The city looked different that night.
Not because anything had changed — the buildings were the same steel towers, the streets were the same restless veins of traffic — but because Aria saw everything now through a lens sharpened by memory.
Rafael was back.
That alone shifted the world's gravity.
Aria sat on the edge of Adrian's office desk long after the building emptied. Her heels lay discarded on the floor, her blazer loosened, her posture relaxed only on the surface.
Inside, she was a blade.
Adrian stood by the glass wall, looking out over the nighttime skyline. He didn't speak. He didn't ask how she felt. He didn't try to comfort her.
He gave her silence — the rarest form of respect.
Finally, she spoke.
"He won't stop at the stock rumors. That was the opening move."
Adrian nodded. "I know."
"He'll attack reputation next. Personal character. Internal trust. He won't go for the head first. He'll go for the ribs. Soft tissue. Places harder to defend."
Adrian glanced at her. "You're describing it like you've played this game before."
Aria gave a humorless breath. "I didn't play. I survived."
Adrian didn't flinch from that.
"Then we use what you learned."
Aria looked up at him. And something in her expression shifted — not pain, but decision.
"He's doing this because of me."
Adrian walked closer — slow, measured, deliberate — until he was standing between her knees, but not touching her.
"I know," he said.
His lack of anger surprised her.
"You're not… upset?"
Adrian's expression remained steady. "If your past didn't exist, you wouldn't be who you are. I'm not threatened by what came before me."
Aria swallowed.
Because Rafael would have been.
Rafael needed to be the beginning and the end of her world.
Adrian did not.
He simply existed beside her — solid, immovable.
She didn't thank him. He didn't need her to.
Instead, she straightened.
"Then we start planning."
But Adrian didn't move back.
He stayed close.
Close enough that his presence wrapped around her like heat.
Not possessive.
Just there.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," he said quietly. "Not your strength. Not your past. Not your fear."
Aria's heartbeat stuttered — just once.
"I'm not afraid of him," she said.
Adrian held her gaze.
"I know."
Her breath caught.
And then—
A knock at the door.
The tension broke like glass.
Adrian stepped back.
"Come in."
Marcus — head of internal intelligence, expression grim — entered, holding a sealed folder.
"Sir," he said. "We traced the rumor leak."
Aria's jaw tightened.
Adrian's voice was even. "Who?"
Marcus hesitated.
"It didn't come from Rafael directly. It came from someone inside our company."
A beat of silence.
Aria's voice was quiet, cold.
"A mole."
Marcus nodded. "We don't know who yet — but whoever it is, they aren't low-level. They had access."
Adrian took the folder but didn't open it yet.
"Find every employee who has had contact with Rafael or any of his affiliated companies in the last eight months. I want discrete inquiries. No alerts. No pressure. Just observation."
Marcus left.
The door closed.
Then silence returned — heavier now.
Aria exhaled slowly. "Rafael is using someone who knows our movements. Our schedules. Our patterns."
"Someone who has been watching," Adrian said.
Aria's eyes narrowed.
"It's not just business. It's personal. He wants to infiltrate the life I have now."
And that…
That was worse than any threat.
Adrian finally opened the folder Marcus handed him.
Inside were names.
Departments.
Schedules.
Connections.
But one detail made his expression sharpen—
All the employees who had access to the leaked data had interacted with one person in the last month:
The new executive assistant.
Emily.
Twenty-three.
Bright smile.
Polite.
Invisible in the way people who work in service roles learn to be.
Aria remembered her.
She remembered the way Emily hovered at door frames.
The way she asked harmless questions.
The way she always left just before meetings ended.
A ghost in plain sight.
Adrian closed the folder slowly.
"Pull her records," Aria said.
Adrian didn't move.
"Aria," he said softly. "If she's involved, Rafael didn't place her here by accident."
Aria's breath stilled.
"He placed her here because she looks like someone I would pity."
The realization hit like a cold hand around the spine.
Rafael was not attacking their strength.
He was attacking their softness.
Aria's.
Adrian didn't hesitate now.
He reached out and laid his hand over hers.
Not claiming.
Not restraining.
Just anchoring.
"We investigate quietly," he said. "No confrontation yet. If she's guilty, we don't expose her — we follow her."
Aria nodded — because that was exactly what Rafael would not expect.
She took her heels in her hand and stood.
Adrian stepped aside, ready to leave with her —
But she stopped.
At the door.
Not looking at him.
Just breathing.
Then—
"Adrian," she said quietly. "He's not afraid of you."
"No," Adrian replied. "He's afraid of losing you."
Aria didn't turn her head.
But her fingers tightened around the doorknob.
"Then we make him afraid of me."