Ronan's POV
The flames licked higher into the night sky, dancing like devils on the wind.
Ronan stood on the balcony of his stone manor, watching the fire swallow the outskirts of Red Pine. The blackened skeleton of his weapons cache cracked and crumbled below, the work of a surgical strike—swift, precise, intentional.
His jaw clenched so tightly that blood pooled in his mouth. He tasted iron and betrayal.
"Aria," he hissed, her name slicing through the silence like a curse.
He couldn't believe the girl he had built, shattered and rejected was doing this.He would make sure he crumble every defense she has built.
He has done it before and he would do it again.
He had built her. Molded her. Protected her from the very world she now tried to weaponize against him. And how did she repay him?
By setting his empire on fire.
