Chapter 10 Blood in the Water

The storm began to roll in just before dawn.

Rain lashed the windows of the penthouse office as the sky bruised. Aria sat at her desk, fingers numb around a cup of coffee she had not touched.

She had not slept.

Not after what she saw on the 11th floor.

Not after Niccolo had said some words that seemed to have gotten engraved in her memory.

Loyalty.

Target.

Bomb.

She had entered his world the way most people fall in love, suddenly, stupidly, without a thought as to what would happen next.

And now?

Now she was in deep; too deep for her to breathe.

---

At precisely 9:03 a.m., the entire building jerked.

A thunderous sound reverberated three floors below.

Aria sprang upright.

Sirens blared. Lights flickered. Somewhere, someone screamed.

A few seconds later, the security intercom started to buzz.

"Attention! All personnel to evacuate. Level 8 breach. I repeat: Level 8 breach."

Pounding in her ears.

"Aria." Niccolo's voice cut through the alarm, "Come with me. Now."

She turned to see him there already, gun holstered at his side, jaw set tight.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"A hit. They came for the vault."

"The vault?"

He grabbed her hand. "I'll explain later. Move."

---

They took the emergency stairs.

Every single floor that they passed by was pure mayhem-screams from the guards, doors banging shut, spaces being abandoned in a rush. This was a first for Aria to see the building in such a state.

But Niccolo?

He moved with the calm of one who has seen war before breakfast.

For a moment, he paused at the landing on the 7th floor-then slammed a hand against a biometric panel.

With a click, the hidden panel swung open.

He pulled her inside.

It was an ice-cold room, lit solely with red emergency light. Monitors lined one wall-security feeds from every floor.

He went to the center console and cursed under his breath.

"They bypassed three checkpoints. Someone gave them access."

"You mean-someone on the inside?"

"Yes," he said ominously. "And I know exactly who."

He called up a file.

Dino Calderón.

Aria blinked. "Your... CFO?"

"He was. Until five minutes ago."

The footage showed Dino swiping into Level 8. Thirty seconds later, masked men followed suit.

He opened the door and walked out like nothing ever happened.

"Why would he do this?" she asked.

"Because he got greedy," Niccolo muttered, "and someone offered him more."

Dahlia.

The name needn't have even been voiced.

They both knew.

---

Aria watched the feed in horror as guards exchanged gunfire with intruders. Blood sprayed onto the walls. A man collapsed on the floor; still and lifeless.

"It is no longer a business," she said softly. "It is now a battlefield."

Niccolò did not look at her. "It always has been."

"And you brought me into it."

"You walked into it the second you said yes."

She flinched.

But he wasn't wrong.

After the dead were counted from securing the breach, Niccolò called later that day.

Aria stood outside his office as his voice snarled Italian over the phone: hard, sharp, brutal.

Then silence.

The door opened.

He looked exhausted.

"You should go home."

"I'm not leaving," she replied. "You still think someone on the inside tipped them off. That means whoever it is... they're still here."

His gaze darkened. "You don't trust anyone now, do you?"

"Should I?"

He walked closer.

Something in him cracked just slightly.

"You know what loyalty means to people like me, Aria?"

She held her breath.

"It means bleeding for someone you shouldn't love... and killing for someone you do."

"Which one am I?" Her voice barely quivered.

He did not respond.

Instead, he simply reached into his pocket and handed her yet another card.

"Security clearance. My personal files. You want the truth? You'll find it there."

She looked down at it.

Yet another key.

Another door.

Another test.

---

So that night, Aria did not went home.

She pressed the elevator button to a floor she had never previously gone to.

Niccolo's private archive.

A place most of his upper echelon had not seen.

It was cluttered with paper files, drives, photos. One drawer bore the label Valenti Affairs.

Another: Calderón Cover-Ups.

And at the very bottom: A. BENNETT - ORIGIN.

Her breath seized in her throat.

Her name.

Her origin?

She opened it.

And what she found made her knees buckle.

Within it she found a picture of her mother.

Younger. Prettier. Beside a man whose face had been blacked out.

There was a note clipped to the back:

>Deceased, accidental fire, suspected link to Valenti family laundering operation.

Trembled her hands.

Was her mother's death no accident?

She turned onto the other side of the note.

Another scribble: Child survived. Relocated. Name changed.

Changed name.

Heart near exploding from the pounding, Aria gaped at the paper.

All her life, her past had remained a mystery.

But now?

Now she knew.

She wasn't just an unfortunate woman in the wrong time and wrong place.

She'd been marked a target long before Niccolo Moretti's mention.