Aria paced her bedroom like a caged animal. The folder still sat on her dresser, its edges sharp in the dim light, as if mocking her. She hadn't been able to put it away — every time she tried, her hand froze.
The words inside clawed at her mind: connections, deals, shadowed photographs. Darius's name scrawled in places it shouldn't be.
Could it be true?
She pressed her palms against her temples. Darius had saved her, shielded her, tangled her life so tightly with his that she couldn't breathe without him. But secrets… secrets could strangle love faster than hate ever could.
Her phone buzzed. A message. She snatched it up, heart hammering.
> Unknown Number: Truth is heavier in the dark. Meet me tomorrow, Pier 17, midnight.
Her breath caught. She didn't need to ask who it was. Victor.
Every instinct screamed to delete it. To march straight to Darius, throw the phone at him, and demand answers. But the image of his face — that cool, unreadable mask he wore whenever business was mentioned — stopped her.
What if he lies again?
She hated herself for the thought. Darius wasn't supposed to be a question mark in her life. He was supposed to be the one thing she could lean on. Yet here she was, wondering if she had been living beside a stranger.
She curled up on the bed, knees to chest, eyes burning. She told herself she wouldn't go. That she wouldn't play Victor's game. But the thought gnawed at her: what if the truth was something she needed to see with her own eyes?
As dawn bled into the sky, Aria still hadn't slept. One thought burned clearer than the rest.
If Darius won't give me the truth, I'll take it myself.
And with that silent vow, she knew she'd be at Pier 17 when midnight came.