Aria Vale
The safehouse was colder than I remembered. Dust clung to the corners, the lights flickered like ghosts whispering secrets. I sat in the same worn leather chair I used to plan a thousand retaliations in, but today, I wasn't the one leading the conversation.
Everett Vale stood across from me, looking every inch the woman who had orchestrated entire empires in the shadows — except now, she looked tired. Older. Human.
I didn't buy it.
"I asked for ten minutes," Jasper said, standing to my left. "That's all. You can hate me after, you can scream, throw something, hell.... Just give her ten minutes."
"Ten minutes," I said flatly, crossing my arms. "Then you both disappear."
Everett didn't hesitate. "You were never meant to be left behind, Aria."
I laughed, bitter and sharp. "You mean I was just supposed to be your tool from the start? How thoughtful."
Jasper shifted beside me, but didn't speak.
Everett stepped closer. "I had no choice. When your father was murdered, I had a target on my back the size of a nation. If I hadn't disappeared..."
"You did disappear," I cut in. "You let me go through all of this. Alone. All thanks to you I don't know what it means to have a normal life."
Silence.
Then, Everett said quietly, "You weren't alone. I sent Jasper."
My gaze cut to him. "Tell me that part's a lie too."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want to do it. But yeah… she sent me. Thought you'd need someone close to Wolfe. Someone who could survive that world long enough to make it count."
----
~Backstory~
Jasper Maddox
They say survival makes a man smart. I say it makes him slippery.
I never intended to end up in the middle of this war. But Everett Vale offered me something I couldn't ignore —protection, power. A shot at staying alive when the monsters finally turned on each other.
She came to me five years ago, in a backroom casino full of smoke and blood debts. She looked like hell warmed over. Told me who she was. Told me who Aria was.
And what she wanted from me.
"You're close enough to Wolfe to get his attention," Everett had said, voice low and vicious. "Get closer. Make him trust you. I need eyes in that world."
"And what do I get in return?" I'd asked, already calculating.
"Money. Immunity. And if you're lucky—survival."
So I played the part. Loyal second to the devil himself. I watched people disappear. Watched Damian kill without flinching. I smiled when I had to, bowed when it was smart, lied like it was second nature.
I didn't do it for Aria.
I did it for me.
Now she was staring at me like she saw the truth behind the mask, and I hated how that made me feel.
----
Aria Vale
"You played both sides," I said quietly.
Jasper didn't argue. "It was me do what I could to survive."
Everett's voice cut through the tension. "I believe Damian loves you, Aria. He hasn't made a move because he's obsessed with you. You think that hesitation makes him safe?"
"No," I spat. "It makes me a pawn."
She didn't deny it. That was the worst part.
"I'm not your leverage," I said coldly, rising from the chair. "And I'm done letting you both write my story."
Jasper tried to speak, but I shut him down with a look.
"Leave," I said. "Before I make you."
Everett nodded slowly, like she expected this ending. Jasper lingered a second longer, guilt painting lines across his face.
Then they left.
And I stood in the silence, heart aching, pulse like thunder in my ears.
I would take Damian Wolfe down.
But I'd do it my way.
---
The wind screamed outside the safehouse, flinging rain against the windows like tiny, angry fists. I hadn't moved from my spot in hours, sitting cross-legged on the threadbare couch, staring into the glow of the fireplace like it could burn answers into my brain.
My mother wanted me to be a weapon.
Jasper wanted to save his own damn skin.
And me?
I wanted blood.
The door creaked open. I didn't flinch, I knew the rhythm of Kira's boots by now.
"You're not going to like this," she said, tossing a tablet onto the table.
I arched a brow. "Since when do I like anything?"
She ignored that and pulled off her soaked coat. "Damian's resurfacing. Quietly. Publicly."
I sat up. "How?"
She tapped the screen. The tablet flickered to life, revealing a digital invite — elegant, sterile, corporate. Wolfe Enterprises 60th Anniversary Gala. Full pageantry. Black tie. Global press. Half the devils of high society expected to attend.
"Bold," I muttered. "After what happened at the warehouse?"
Kira's smile was tight. "Exactly. He wants the world to see he's untouchable. Unbothered."
Untouched by me.
I leaned back, the fire crackling louder now or maybe that was just the noise building in my head.
He was luring me out.
No he was daring me.
I reached for the tablet, zooming in on the list of attendees. Power. Money. Sharks in tailored suits.
And Damian Wolfe at the center of it all, wearing his empire like armor.
I handed the tablet back. "Get me a dress."
Kira's eyes narrowed. "You're going?"
I stood slowly, shoulders straightening like a blade being drawn. "I mean, everyone that matters will be there. I'm not hiding anymore."
Not from him. Not from my mother.
Let the next move be mine.
---
The fire had burned down to coals. Outside, the storm softened into silence, the kind that wraps around your throat and waits for you to speak first.
Kira handed me a mug of something hot and bitter. I didn't ask what it was.
"You're not sleeping," she said quietly.
I stared at the flames. "Didn't know you were my mother now."
"Your mother wants you to be a weapon," she said, deadpan. "I just want you to survive."
That shut me up.
I glanced at her. The firelight etched the sharp lines of her face, her expression unreadable, but I knew her too well. She didn't need to say it. The silence between us was heavy with warning.
"You think I'm not ready."
"I think you're not ready for him," she said, voice like steel. "You've changed. He's changed you."
I scoffed. "You sound like her."
"No," Kira said, setting her mug down. "I don't think you're a pawn. I think you're the one holding the knife and pretending your hands are clean."
That one hit too close.