Rain thickened outside, pattering against the windows in uneven rhythms. The bar carried the scent of old wood and whiskey soaked into grain. Luca sat motionless. The bartender across from him worked their jaw like they were chewing on fear.“Start talking,” Luca said. Not harsh. Not impatient. Simply a directive.The bartender braced both hands on the counter. “There were stories about you long before the fire. Stories about the way you could cross a street and every predator in the city looked away. Stories about how gangs called truces when you were near.” He shook his head. “Not because you were violent — but because they knew you could be. Knew exactly what would happen if you decided to.”Luca listened. The words did not feel like compliments. They felt like ghosts.“What was I?” Luca asked.The bartender’s eyes flicked up. “You were the one who kept the balance. Criminals, politicians, monsters—something about you and your people… kept them from tearing each other apart.”“My p

Morning light spilled across Tessa’s desk as she tried to steady her breathing. She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—Elias Kane—standing in the dark of that parking lot, the city lights burning behind him like he owned the skyline.She had heard stories about him. Everyone had.But meeting him in person wasn’t something anyone could ever fully prepare for.Tessa took a slow breath.This wasn’t the time to shake. Not now. Not when she’d finally gotten her foot in the door of Kane Global. This job was her lifeline—her one chance to support her mother, pay off her brother’s medical bills, and start rebuilding what her father had left in ruins.She smoothed her hair, straightened her blouse, and focused on typing up the morning reports. Her fingers weren’t as steady as usual.Just as she finished reorganizing the day’s schedule, her phone buzzed.“Mr. Kane wants you in Conference Room 14.”Her heart stopped.So soon?She swallowed hard.Conference Room 14 was

The office stayed quiet long after Cassandra left.Tessa didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the tension eased from her shoulders. She closed the meeting report, saving it to the secured archive Elias had shown her.Elias stood up from his chair.“We’re leaving,” he said.Tessa blinked. “Where?”He didn’t slow his stride. “You’ll see. Bring your tablet.”She hurried after him, matching his pace down the corridor. Employees parted instinctively when Elias walked through the floor—some offering nervous greetings, most staying silent. Power didn’t need to announce itself. It adjusted the air.Tessa kept beside him, careful not to fall behind.They entered the private elevator.For a moment, they stood in quiet.The city moved beneath them in reflections of steel and glass.“You did well today,” Elias said.The words were simple, but they landed heavy—like praise from someone who rarely gave it.Tessa’s pulse warmed. “Thank you.”“Don’t thank me.” His tone remained calm. “J

They didn’t go back to the office.Elias didn’t say why.Tessa didn’t ask.The car moved through the city in quiet—no music, no idle conversation. Just the hum of the engine and the weight of what had happened still hanging between them.Tessa sat beside him, hands steady in her lap, though her pulse hadn’t fully returned to normal.She replayed the moment—The way he moved.Not like a corporate magnate.Like someone who used to survive by his hands.The car stopped in front of a high-rise overlooking the river. Steel and glass cutting into the fog. Private. Quiet.His residence.The driver opened Tessa’s door.She hesitated.Elias was already walking inside.She followed.The apartment was nothing like she expected.No lavish displays.No gold.No curated art.Just…Space.And silence.Bookshelves, full.Floor-to-ceiling windows.A piano—left open, a sheet of music paused mid-page.This was not the home of a man who flaunted wealth.This was the home of a man who escaped noise.“Sit,

The warehouse district slept like a graveyard. Only the wind moved: scraping broken glass across concrete, rattling rusted chains that hung from old crane arms, sighing through hollow window frames like it remembered screams. Luca stood with his hands buried in his coat pockets, staring at the skeleton of the old Underhaven warehouse. The sky was heavy with clouds, swollen and dark—like it knew this place carried storms of its own.Mira stood a few feet behind him, arms crossed tight, as if bracing against something she couldn't name. “You don’t have to do this tonight,” she murmured. Her voice stayed quiet, careful, as though loud words might wake something sleeping.“I do,” Luca said.He didn’t look back at her. He couldn’t. His chest felt lined with ash. The charred beams. The smell of burnt wood. The blackened doorway yawning like a mouth. His feet moved on their own, crunching gravel.The police files had said the fire was electrical. Faulty wiring. Accident.They’d lied. He coul