The whole ballroom was like a broken hive of bees. People were screaming, pushing, and running in every direction. Glasses smashed on the floor, heels clicked against marble, and the chandeliers above shook as if they too were afraid. What had started as a glamorous night of music and wealth had suddenly turned into chaos.
And in the middle of all that madness stood Aria.
On one side, her husband Sebastian held her arm tightly, his grip like chains. On the other side was Lorenzo, his hand firm on her wrist, his touch burning with a strange mixture of safety and danger. They were pulling her in two different directions, and for the first time in her life, Aria knew she had to choose.
"Aria!" Sebastian's voice rose above the noise. It was not the voice of a loving husband. It was sharp, angry, and filled with authority. "Come with me now!"
Lorenzo's eyes did not move from her. Calm, steady, unshaken. "She's not yours to command," he said, his voice low but powerful. "She's not yours at all."
Aria's heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears. For years she had been silent, obedient, the perfect wife everyone expected. But something inside her snapped that night. Her voice came out, shaky but honest. "I'm not."
Sebastian froze, his mask of charm breaking for a split second. His eyes turned dark, the real man beneath showing through. He sneered, "You think this is a choice? Without me, you are nothing. Nothing!"
But before Aria could answer, Lorenzo laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was sharp enough to cut through Sebastian's words. "Funny," he said, tilting his head, "because I see a woman worth burning empires for."
Aria's chest tightened. Those words wrapped around her heart like fire. For once, someone didn't see her as an ornament or a possession. Someone saw her as a person. A woman. Alive.
Guards rushed to Sebastian, urging him to leave before the chaos grew worse. "Sir, we need to get you out" one of them said, but Sebastian cut him off.
"Take her!" he barked, shoving Aria toward them like she was just another piece of property.
But Lorenzo was faster. He pulled her close, his breath warm against her ear. "Decide now, Aria. The cage or the fire."
Her lips trembled. For years she had lived in a golden cage. For years she had been told who she was, what she was worth, and how she should behave. But deep inside, she had always wanted freedom, even if it came with risk.
Her voice came out clear, almost surprising herself. "Fire."
That one word changed everything.
Lorenzo didn't hesitate. His arm circled her waist, dragging her through the panicked crowd. They pushed past screaming guests and broken tables, running toward the service hallway. Sebastian roared behind them, but someone crashed into him, blocking his way. Reporters raised their cameras, snapping pictures of the scandal, the perfect Draven marriage cracking live before their eyes.
Aria stumbled as they ran, her heels catching on the floor. "You planned this," she gasped, breathless.
Lorenzo smirked, his hand never letting go of hers. "Not the gunman. But your choice? I've been waiting for it."
Her chest burned from running, but her heart was even more aflame. "Sebastian will kill you for this."
"Let him try." His dark eyes cut into hers, fierce and unafraid. "I'd rather die than watch you rot in that cage another night."
They burst through the back doors into the cold night air. Sirens wailed in the distance, and flashes from reporters' cameras followed them outside. Lorenzo's black car screeched to the curb, waiting like a shadow ready to swallow them.
Aria froze at the door. Everything she had ever known was still inside that ballroom, her life, her reputation, her wealth, her safety. Walking into that car meant stepping into the unknown, into danger, into scandal. Her husband's voice echoed in her mind: Without me, you are nothing.
But Lorenzo's grip tightened, burning that lie to ashes. "Aria," he said, eyes locked on hers, "step into this car, and there's no going back."
The night pressed close, suffocating. She could almost hear her old self whispering to run back, to pretend nothing had happened, to continue being the perfect wife. But she wasn't that woman anymore.
Her lips curved, not in Sebastian's forced smile, but in something real. Something alive. "Good," she whispered. "I don't want to go back."
Lorenzo flung the door open and guided her inside. The car engine roared, tires screeching as they sped into the dark city streets.
Back in the ballroom, Sebastian Draven stood in the wreckage of the evening. His suit was disheveled, his face twisted in fury, his perfect mask shattered beyond repair. Cameras caught every detail, the trembling vein in his forehead, the wild anger in his eyes, the image of a man who had lost control.
He leaned close to his men, his voice cold and venomous. "Find them," he ordered. "I don't care what it takes. Bring me Lorenzo Vitale's head. And drag my wife back to me in chains."
And just like that, the war had begun.
Aria wasn't just running away from her husband. She was running toward freedom. Toward danger. Toward fire.
And this time, she would not be silent.