The House That Breathes Silence
The massive mansion was wrapped in silence — the kind that felt alive, as if even a whisper could shatter it.
In the center of that quiet sat Kian Drake.
Still.
Unmoving.
His dangerous gaze fixed on the table before him.
The woman from the alley stood nearby.
Her hair was dry now. Her wounds cleaned and wrapped in white bandages. A plain dress hung from her shoulders — one made for the maids of the house.
She placed a cup on the table.
The soft clink echoed far too loudly.
Kian looked up.
Their eyes met.
Her breath hitched. She quickly lowered her gaze as he lifted the cup, took a single sip, then set it down again.
"You're good at this," he said calmly.
The cup touched the table once more — click.
"And from now on," he continued, "you're a maid."
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.
"Every morning, you'll bring me coffee. You'll cook every meal I eat." His voice was firm, unquestionable.
"Mrs. Eleanor will give you your instructions."
The silence swallowed her answer.
She didn't speak.
She couldn't.
Because her name was Mira Hale.
And she wasn't supposed to be here.
Names Written in Blood
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
But Aria's mind screamed.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection — eyes locked onto her own, unblinking.
She splashed water onto her face, trying to wash the thoughts away.
It didn't work.
After changing into something comfortable, she walked to her desk. From the corner, she picked up a thick file and sat down, opening it slowly.
One name filled the pages.
Kian Drake.
Every crime.
Every murder.
Every disappearance — all traced back to him.
But tonight, another name burned just as painfully.
Mira Hale.
Her agent.
Her responsibility.
Aria had planned the mission.
Mira had gone in undercover — to watch him, track him, disappear quietly if needed.
She never came back.
Mira wasn't missing.
She was trapped — because of her.
Aria's fingers tightened around the file.
Her mind was already building plans, already imagining him on his knees.
Unaware that one day, he truly would be —
for her.
Her phone rang.
Evan.
She answered.
"Aria," he said urgently. "We found something."
"What?" Her voice was low. Controlled.
"He's attending a mafia meeting tomorrow. It's being held at Blackthorne Docks."
A pause.
"Thanks," she said quietly. "From tomorrow… my move begins."
The call ended.
And with it, she made herself a promise —
to make him feel pain.
to break him the way he had broken others.
to bring Mira home — or burn everything trying.
Parallel Destinies
Kian stood in his room, phone pressed to his ear.
"Yes," he said coldly. "I'll be there."
The call ended.
He turned toward the window, rain sliding slowly down the glass.
Unaware that somewhere in the same city, someone had chosen to destroy him.
Neither of them knew yet —
that in trying to ruin each other,
they would ruin themselves.