The storm lasted till morning.
Rain washed over the city, blurring the skyline, drowning the lights of New York. Aria hadn't slept all night. She sat by the window, the ring still in her palm, staring at it as though it held all the answers.
Her hair was messy, her eyes hollow. She didn't look like the elegant wife or the hidden queen. She looked like a ghost of herself, a woman who had seen something she was never meant to see.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Elias's face. The scar. The pain in his eyes. The way he said her name, like he had owned it long before anyone else.
But the memories didn't come clear. They came in broken flashes, a burning house, a scream, a man's hand pulling her through smoke, and then… nothing.
She rubbed her temples and whispered, "What did they take from me?"
The door opened suddenly, and Lorenzo walked in. He didn't knock. He looked angry, but there was something else in his eyes too, fear.
