The pier was almost deserted, the kind of place that swallowed sound. The water lapped in restless whispers against the wood, moonlight skimming across its surface like silver blades.
Aria pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, each step echoing too loudly in the hollow dark. Her phone buzzed once in her pocket, a single unread message from Darius:
Stay in tonight. I'll explain everything tomorrow.
Too late.
She reached the end of the pier. A single black car idled nearby, headlights cutting through the mist. The rear door opened before she could think twice.
Victor Hale stepped out.
No guards. No entourage. Just him, a sharp silhouette against the fog. That was his confidence — he didn't need muscle to make her feel cornered.
"Aria," he said smoothly, like they were old friends meeting for coffee instead of enemies on a midnight dock. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."
"I shouldn't have." Her voice was steadier than she felt.
"Yet here you are." His smile didn't touch his eyes. He studied her face the way a jeweler examines a rare stone, searching for flaws. "Curiosity is a dangerous hunger. But it's also… human."
She clenched her fists. "What do you want from me?"
"Want?" He tilted his head. "Nothing. I'm offering."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a slim envelope. No theatrics, no threats — just a quiet hand extended toward her. "The rest of the truth. About Kane. About the empire he built. About the blood on which your comfort rests."
Aria's heart kicked hard against her ribs. "You're lying."
Victor chuckled softly. "You think I need to lie? Kane does enough of that for the both of us."
The envelope hung between them like a blade.
Aria's hand trembled, torn between snatching it and walking away. She could almost hear Darius's voice in her head, warning her, begging her to trust him. But the silence of the pier pressed heavy, and Victor's calm certainty scraped at her doubts like sandpaper.
Finally, she reached out. Her fingertips brushed the edge of the envelope.
Victor's smile widened, thin and victorious. "Good girl."
A sound broke the air — footsteps, sharp and purposeful.
Aria spun.
Darius.
His figure emerged from the fog, dark coat flaring, eyes blazing with a fury she had never seen aimed at her before.
"Aria," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Step away from him."
The envelope was still in her hand.
And in that moment, with both men staring at her, she realized: whatever choice she made tonight, nothing would ever be the same.