Chapter 7 Beneath the Surface

The city's underbelly throbbed with life as Isla stepped out into the chill morning air. The Vale estate was far behind her now, swallowed by fog and distance. Here, in the narrow streets lined with flickering neon signs and shadowed alleyways, the true war was waged-not with words, but with power, secrets, and blood.

Her breath clouded before her, a fragile mist lost in the harsh clatter of the waking city.

She pulled her coat tighter, the silver pendant tucked beneath her blouse, a hidden talisman against the cold and the unknown.

⸻

Isla's destination was a small, discreet café tucked between a crumbling bookstore and an old tailor's shop-a meeting place Dominic had chosen. It wasn't the place of a kingpin, but a neutral ground for those who lived in the cracks.

Inside, the air was thick with the aroma of strong coffee and whispered conversations.

Luca was already there, his eyes scanning the room, alert and restless.

He nodded as she approached.

"Good. You're here."

Isla took a seat opposite him, her fingers brushing the edge of her cup.

"What's the plan?"

Luca leaned forward, voice low.

"There's a new player in the city-someone with ambition and a grudge."

Isla frowned. "Who?"

"Name's Marcellus Kane. He's been building his empire quietly, but his reach is growing fast. And he's not afraid to get his hands dirty."

Isla's mind raced.

Kane was a name whispered in the darker circles of the city-ruthless, cunning, and dangerous.

"Dominic mentioned threats," she said carefully. "Is Kane connected?"

Luca nodded. "He's the biggest threat we face."

⸻

The meeting ended quickly, but Isla stayed behind, sipping her coffee as she watched the world move outside the window.

She thought of Dominic, his promise that she was more than a pawn, that she held power-if only she could claim it.

Could she trust him?

Could she trust anyone?

⸻

Back at the estate, the walls seemed to close in tighter with each passing day.

Dominic was a shadow that haunted her steps-at once protector, tormentor, and mystery.

That evening, the tension between them simmered beneath every glance, every word left unsaid.

Isla found herself drawn to the study once more, where Dominic waited, his sharp eyes gleaming in the firelight.

"You're learning," he said, voice rough with something she couldn't name.

Isla took a step closer.

"Teach me," she whispered.

⸻

Dominic's lessons were harsh and unyielding.

He pushed her to the edge of her limits-training her to read people like open books, to spot lies hidden beneath polished words, to trust instincts sharpened by fear and necessity.

They sparred with words and wills, a dance of power and submission that left Isla breathless and aching for more.

⸻

One night, after hours of relentless training, Dominic pulled Isla close.

His voice was a low growl.

"You're mine, Isla."

The words sent a shock through her.

"Yours?" she repeated, voice trembling.

He nodded.

"No one protects what they don't claim."

Her heart thundered.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to fight him-or surrender.

⸻

Days later, a message arrived-an encrypted file delivered anonymously.

Isla's hands shook as she opened it.

Inside were images and documents that revealed a conspiracy far deeper than she'd imagined.

Violet's disappearance was just the tip of the iceberg.

Someone was manipulating events from the shadows-someone who wanted to destroy Dominic and anyone who stood with him.

⸻

Isla's resolve hardened.

She would fight-not just for herself, but for the family she still dreamed of saving.

And maybe, just maybe, for the man who had claimed her heart in a war she didn't want to lose.

⸻

The night stretched on, heavy with secrets and promises.

Isla knew the road ahead was dark and dangerous.

But for the first time, she felt the fire within her-burning brighter than the shadows around her. Dominic read over the encrypted file Isla handed him, his jaw tightening with every line.

"You should've brought this to me the moment you opened it," he said, the edge in his voice sharp.

"I had to see it first," Isla replied evenly. "This affects me too."

His eyes snapped to hers.

"And what do you think you've uncovered?"

Isla pointed to the document. "There's more than just Marcellus Kane. Someone close to you is feeding him information-every move you make, every decision, even the plans you don't speak aloud."

Dominic's silence was louder than his anger.

It was confirmation.

She sat across from him, daring to push further. "Do you know who?"

"I have suspicions," he said quietly. "But proof... that's harder to come by."

Isla swallowed. "And Violet?"

Dominic's expression darkened. "She wasn't just taken, Isla. She ran."

Her chest tightened. "Ran?"

He nodded. "And I believe she left a trail behind her, one meant for you."

⸻

That night, Isla couldn't sleep. The mansion was too quiet, too cold.

She found herself standing in the hallway outside Dominic's door, heart pounding with indecision.

Before she could talk herself out of it, the door opened.

He stood there shirtless, tension rippling through his frame. "You're not sleeping either."

"No," she breathed.

He stepped aside, and she walked in.

⸻

Inside, the fireplace crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the otherwise dim room. The air between them thickened.

"Why are you really here?" he asked.

Isla turned to him. "Because I don't know how to survive this unless I understand you."

He crossed the space slowly. "You want to understand the monster in the dark?"

Her eyes didn't waver. "I want to know if the monster bleeds."

He stopped in front of her. "I bleed. Just not for many."

His hand reached up, brushing her cheek. "But you, Isla... you've started something I can't control."

She looked at him, vulnerable yet fierce. "Then don't control it."

Dominic's mouth crushed against hers.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was raw and claiming, a firestorm that stole the breath from her lungs and the ground from beneath her feet.

She didn't resist.

She surrendered.

⸻

Hours later, Isla lay beside him, tangled in sheets and emotion. The room had gone quiet again, but her mind hadn't.

"What happens now?" she whispered.

Dominic lay on his side, facing her. "Now... we find out who's hunting us. And we make them regret it."

He leaned in, his lips brushing her temple. "But first, I keep you safe. No matter the cost."

⸻

The following morning, chaos arrived in the form of a call.

Luca burst into the room without knocking, face pale and eyes wide.

"We were hit," he said. "One of our safe houses. Everyone's gone."

Dominic shot up, all calm gone from his face. "Who did it?"

"We don't know yet. But Kane's name was spray-painted across the walls."

Dominic turned to Isla.

"War has started. And this time, there's no walking away."

⸻

Later that day, Isla stood outside the charred remains of the safe house with Dominic, the scent of smoke and blood thick in the air.

She stared at the destruction-the broken walls, the blackened glass.

It was a warning.

But to Isla, it felt more like a dare.

Dominic came to stand beside her. "This is what he does. He burns things down so there's nothing left to fight for."

Isla looked up at him. "Then let's give him something to be afraid of."

Dominic turned to her, surprised by the fire in her voice.

He smiled-not cruelly, but with something close to pride.

"You're not the same girl I brought here."

She met his gaze. "Good. Because I'm not going to be anyone's victim. Not anymore."

⸻

That night, back at the estate, Isla walked the corridors with new purpose.

She found Violet's old room-the one that had been sealed off since her disappearance.

Inside, the air was stale, untouched.

But Isla knew her sister better than anyone.

She knelt by the dresser, fingers tracing the underside until she felt the catch.

A hidden drawer slid open.

Inside: a flash drive, a photo, and a note.

Keep going. The truth is messier than you think.

Isla stared at the words.

She wasn't just stepping into a war.

She was stepping into Violet's legacy.

And she had no idea if it would save her-or destroy her.