The following morning, Dominic's penthouse was cloaked in a tense silence.
Aria stood in the kitchen, staring at the untouched cup of coffee in her hands. She hadn't slept. Not really. Every creak of the floor, every gust of wind tapping against the windows had felt like a threat.
Across the room, Dominic was on a secure call, his voice low and clipped.
"…leak it to the Cayman team. I want every transaction that went through that shell company flagged. Yes, including the ones under my father's name. Especially those."
He ended the call and turned to her.
"You should stay in today."
"I'm not hiding," she said, setting down the coffee. "They want me to be afraid. I won't give them the satisfaction."
Dominic stepped closer, hands sliding into his pockets. "I admire the courage. But courage won't keep you alive."
Her voice was quiet. "Neither will running."
There was something unreadable in his eyes, something wounded. He didn't argue.
They took his car. Not the usual sleek black Aston Martin—but an unmarked SUV. Security had doubled, with one man trailing them on a motorcycle and another tailing the rear.
At Blackwood International, the atmosphere was colder than usual. The stares were more obvious. The whispers more daring.
But something else waited.
Someone.
As they exited the elevator, Aria froze.
A man stood at her desk.
Tall. Lean. Golden-brown skin. Dark hair. And eyes like a storm.
Her past.
Ethan.
Her ex-fiancé.
The man she'd left behind in Chicago.
He turned, and their eyes met.
Dominic stopped mid-step, immediately alert.
"Aria," Ethan said softly. "I've been looking for you."
Dominic's tone was ice. "And you are?"
Ethan didn't flinch. "Her fiancé."
Aria stepped forward. "Ex. He's my ex."
Ethan's jaw clenched. "We never got closure."
Dominic moved between them. "You're not getting it today."
"Dominic," Aria said quickly. "It's okay."
He glanced at her, his gaze reluctant. But he stepped aside.
She led Ethan into a small meeting room.
"What are you doing here?" she asked as soon as the door closed.
"You disappeared," Ethan said, voice full of quiet anger. "No calls. No goodbye. Just… gone."
"You know why I left."
"I know what you thought you saw. But you never gave me a chance to explain."
She folded her arms. "You were sleeping with my boss's wife, Ethan."
His face darkened. "That's not how it happened. She lied. She set me up. I was going to tell you—"
"But you didn't. I had to find out on my own."
A long silence passed.
"I came because I think you're in danger," he said finally. "Someone's been asking about you. Men in suits. Same ones who came around my apartment last week."
Aria's blood ran cold. "What did you tell them?"
"Nothing," he said. "But they already knew where you worked. And who you were with."
He hesitated. "They said something else. That you're being used."
She stared at him. "By Dominic?"
He shrugged. "They didn't say his name. Just that the people you're around now? They're not who they claim to be."
She turned away, heart pounding.
"Aria," Ethan said softly. "You left because you were afraid. Are you still afraid now?"
She didn't answer.
Because yes—she was. But she didn't know who to be afraid of anymore.
When she returned to her desk, Dominic was waiting.
"Everything okay?"
"No," she said honestly. "But it will be."
He nodded slowly.
Then reached into his pocket and handed her something.
A phone.
"Encrypted. Only five people have the number. If anything happens again, you call me. Immediately."
She took it. Their fingers brushed. The air shifted.
She wanted to say something—to ask if he really trusted her, or if she was just another tool in his war against shadows.
But before she could speak, the elevator doors opened again.
A man stepped out.
Sharp suit. Scar across his cheek. Cold eyes.
He handed something to the receptionist, then turned—and stared directly at Aria.
She felt the chill down her spine.
Dominic stiffened beside her.
The man gave a faint smile.
Then left.
The receptionist approached with an envelope. "For you, Miss Monroe."
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
Inside was a single photo.
Her and Dominic.
At the restaurant. At the gala. Walking into his penthouse.
All timestamped. All candid. All proof.
And beneath it, a message:
"He's not protecting you. He's using you. You're the key. Don't let him unlock what should stay buried."