The city blurred past the windshield as Dominic drove like the devil was on his heels. His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, the tires screeching at every sharp turn. The SUV growled through the streets, slicing through traffic, one destination burning in his mind.
The penthouse.
Mara and Nico. Everything he kept guarded behind those walls.
Aria sat in the backseat beside Enzo.
The car hurtled through the city streets, Dominic gripping the wheel with white-knuckled fury. Red lights meant nothing. Horns blared and tires screeched behind them as he weaved through traffic like a man possessed.
Aria clung to the door handle, heart in her throat. She turned back to Enzo, her voice sharp.
"What does he mean he's inside the house? Who is Adrian after?"
Enzo didn't flinch. His grin only widened.
"You think Adrian would let you walk away with me without a distraction? You think you'd ever get the upper hand that easily?"
Dominic didn't even glance back. His voice was cold and steady.
"Who did he send?"
Enzo chuckled darkly. "You'll find out soon enough."
Luca, in the passenger seat, had his gun drawn, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"How the hell did they even get close? Security's tighter than the Vatican."
Dominic didn't answer. He was already calculating. Marco had been at the penthouse. Nico too. Mara was the wildcard. She was only fifteen. She had nothing to do with this war, but if Adrian had touched her, if she was hurt.
His foot pressed harder on the gas.
They reached the building in under ten minutes. The guards at the gate were gone. No sign of struggle. Just... gone.
Dominic slammed the brakes and leapt out of the car. The others followed. Guns drawn. No words.
They stormed through the lobby. Blood smeared the marble floor like a warning.
Dominic cursed under his breath and ran for the elevator. It was still moving. Someone had used it. Aria grabbed his arm.
"We don't have time to wait."
They bolted for the stairwell.
Twelve flights.
They climbed them in under three minutes.
By the time they reached the top, Dominic's shirt clung to his back and Aria's lungs were on fire, but neither stopped. He kicked the penthouse door open.
It swung with a haunting creak.
The place was quiet.
Too quiet.
Dominic stepped inside first, gun raised. Luca followed, covering the hallway.
Aria's heart dropped at the sight of the shattered glass table in the foyer.
Something had gone down.
"Marco?" Dominic called, his voice low, dangerous.
No answer.
"Nico?" Aria shouted. "Mara?"
A soft whimper came from down the hall.
They ran.
In the corner of the living room, beneath the overturned couch, Nico was huddled with Mara, his arm bleeding but still holding the girl close.
Dominic rushed to them, dropping to his knees.
"Mara, look at me."
She looked up, tears streaking her cheeks.
"They came in so fast," she whispered. "Marco tried to stop them, but..."
Her voice cracked.
Aria swallowed hard. "Where is he?"
Nico pointed toward the master bedroom.
Dominic didn't wait.
He stepped over the broken glass and the blood, every muscle in his body screaming for vengeance.
Inside the bedroom, Marco was slumped against the wall, blood soaking through his white shirt. He was conscious, barely, a knife wound in his side and a deep gash above his eyebrow.
"Boss," he rasped.
Dominic dropped beside him. "What the hell happened?"
Marco coughed, spitting blood. "Three men. Russian accents. One had the mark... a dragon on his neck."
Aria's breath caught.
"Viktor."
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "Dragunov sent men into my home?"
Marco nodded slowly. "They weren't here to kill. They were looking for something."
"What?"
Marco blinked slowly. "I think... I think it was her."
His gaze drifted to the doorway.
To Aria.
Dominic stood slowly, rage simmering just beneath his skin.
"Get Marco to Eva. Now," he told Luca.
Luca knelt beside Marco and helped him up, wincing as Marco groaned in pain.
Dominic turned to Aria, his eyes colder than she'd ever seen them.
"This wasn't just a message. This was a declaration."
Aria stepped closer. "Viktor knows where I am."
"He's not the only one. Adrian is aligning with him."
She stared at him. "Why?"
"Because they know what you are to me."
Aria opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a phone vibrated on the floor.
Marco's.
Dominic picked it up. An unknown number. He answered.
"Moretti," a voice slithered through the line.
Adrian.
"You took something of mine tonight," he said. "So I returned the favor."
Dominic didn't speak.
"You think you've made her stronger? You think you've trained her to survive? Dominic, my friend, you've just painted a target on her back she'll never outrun."
Dominic's hand clenched around the phone.
Adrian laughed softly.
"Let's see how long she lasts."
The line went dead.
Aria's fists trembled.
She didn't wait for Dominic to speak.
She grabbed a pistol from the cabinet and slid a fresh clip in, her hands shaking but firm.
"I'm not waiting for him to come back."
Dominic looked at her, long and hard. Not with doubt. With something like pride.
"You won't have to."
Behind them, Mara and Nico stood at the doorway, Nico still bleeding but alert, Mara's small hand gripping his.
"We're in this too," Nico said.
Dominic didn't argue.
The war wasn't coming.
It had already arrived.
And Aria Sullivan was no longer the girl who needed saving.
She was the weapon they never saw coming.
But none of them knew yet...
Adrian had already moved his next piece.
And it was someone they all thought was dead.
Someone who once loved Aria like a sister.
Isabella De Luca had just returned.
And she wasn't coming back to make peace.