The opera house was silent for one breath, two, three. Dust floated in the air, catching the glow of candles. Then the tension cracked like thunder.
Isabelle's eyes widened when she saw him. "Lorenzo…" Her voice was sharp, trembling with both shock and rage.
Lorenzo moved closer, his gun steady, his face carved in stone. "You should have stayed hidden, Isabelle. You picked the wrong queen to challenge."
Aria stood between them, her body still, her voice calm. She had no weapon in her hand, but her words were sharp enough. "This stage is mine now."
The men Isabelle had brought shifted uneasily. Some lowered their guns slightly. The presence of Lorenzo Vitale was enough to shake them. Everyone in New York's underworld knew his name.
Isabelle tried to recover, her chin lifting high. "You think this saves you, Aria? You think hiding behind him makes you strong?"
Aria's gaze didn't waver. "I don't hide. I rule. That's the difference between you and me."
