By morning, the safehouse didn't feel so safe.
Ariana woke to a silent room, the side of the bed where Brandon had been already cold. She wrapped a blanket around herself and stepped into the hallway barefoot, drawn to the faint hum of voices down below.
She passed Kaya's door—closed but not locked. A pair of boots outside it. One of Brandon's lieutenants. She passed a second guard standing like a statue at the stairwell. No one acknowledged her, but they didn't stop her either.
In the security room, Brandon stood in front of a wall of screens. His face was hard, sculpted in stone, every muscle taut with tension. Kaya leaned against the back wall, chewing on a pen. Her eyes flicked to Ariana, then back to the monitor.
"Something's wrong," Brandon muttered.
"What happened?" Ariana asked.
Kaya nodded to the screen. "At three a.m., someone triggered one of the decoy cars. We thought it was random—until two of our digital vaults got breached within seconds."
"Breach?" Ariana echoed, confused. "Like… hacked?"
"Yes," Kaya said, arms folded. "And not just any breach. This was precision work. Whoever did it had access to our encryption signatures. And only three people in the world have that kind of clearance."
Ariana's stomach dropped. "And one of them is Ricco?"
"No," Brandon said quietly. "One of them is dead. Another is me. And the third disappeared two years ago after I put a bounty on his head."
He turned, eyes locking with Ariana's.
"His name was Luka Vale."
Kaya's brows rose. "You think Luka's back?"
"I don't think," Brandon growled. "I know."
A chill passed through the room like smoke.
"Why does this matter?" Ariana asked. "What does he want with us?"
"Luka doesn't want money. He wants destruction. He used to be my right hand. My cleaner. I taught him everything—and he used it to start building something behind my back. When I found out, I gave him a choice: disappear or die."
"And he chose revenge," Kaya muttered.
Brandon nodded.
"He was always a ghost. Brilliant, vicious, untouchable. And now he's using Ricco like a puppet. This isn't about business anymore—it's personal."
Ariana stepped back slightly, processing everything. "Then what does this mean for us?"
Brandon's eyes found hers again. Dark, unreadable.
"It means no one is safe now."
A sudden beep echoed through the room.
A red light began flashing on one of the monitors.
"Perimeter breach," Kaya snapped, running to the panel.
Brandon was already moving. "Which sector?"
"North ridge. Just outside the blind zone. Someone's here."
"Activate internal lockdown," he ordered. "Full security protocol."
"Brandon—" Ariana started, but he stopped her with a glance.
"Stay in this room. Do not follow me."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"I'm not," he said. "I'm begging."
Before she could argue again, he was gone.
Kaya locked the door behind him and began arming the room from within.
"Does this happen often?" Ariana asked dryly.
"More than you'd think," Kaya replied, strapping a gun to her thigh. "But this? This feels personal."
Seconds later, gunfire echoed outside.
It was fast. Controlled.
Then it stopped.
Silence returned, but it was the kind that choked.
And when the door suddenly clicked open—unlocked from the outside—Ariana's breath caught.
Brandon wasn't there.
It was someone else.
Someone Ariana hadn't seen in over a year.
The man standing in the doorway had deep scars on his knuckles, cold gray eyes, and a voice that cut through the air like a blade.
"Hello, Ariana," he said smoothly. "You weren't supposed to be this hard to find."
Her blood froze.
She knew that voice.
Not James. Not yet.
This was someone else from the shadows of her past—someone she'd hoped never to see again.
"Ethan," she whispered, stepping back.
His smile was all teeth. "Surprised?"
Kaya raised her gun.
But he already had one aimed at her head.
"Let's not ruin the reunion," Ethan said coolly.
The room seemed to shrink.
Ariana's pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out everything else. The man who had just walked in was a ghost from her past—Ethan Carter. A man she thought was buried in the wreckage of the life she'd left behind. But here he was, standing in the doorway like a dark promise fulfilled, with a gun aimed directly at Kaya's head.
"Put the gun down," Ethan drawled, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Or I will."
Ariana's stomach turned, nausea settling in her chest like an anchor. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd seen him—months, maybe even years—but the memories still clung to her like a second skin. His touch, his manipulation, the way he had wormed his way into her life only to tear it apart.
And now, here he was, with the same twisted grin, wielding the same kind of power over her that Brandon did.
"Ethan," Ariana said, her voice shaking despite her efforts to stay steady. "What do you want?"
His eyes flicked to her. "What I've always wanted," he replied smoothly. "You."
Brandon's voice cut through the tension in the air. "Get the hell away from her."
Ariana's heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head toward the hallway, seeing Brandon step into view, his posture lethal, his gaze locked on Ethan with a dangerous intensity that sent a shiver through her.
Ethan chuckled, the sound low and amused. "I'm not interested in you, Marshall. Not anymore. I'm here for Ariana."
Brandon's fists clenched, his jaw tight. "You don't know what you're dealing with."
"I know exactly what I'm dealing with," Ethan said, his gun not wavering an inch. "And I know that Ariana's loyalty can be bought. I just didn't want to make things easy for you."
Brandon's gaze flickered between Ariana and Ethan, the tension thick in the room. He wasn't about to let anyone—least of all Ethan—take Ariana from him. But something in the way Ethan spoke, in the confidence that radiated from him, made Brandon pause.
Ethan had been the shadow in Ariana's past—the kind of man who lurked in the corners, pulling strings, and now he was trying to insert himself into her future.
"I've had enough of you," Brandon growled, his voice dark with restrained fury. "Get out of my house. Now."
Ethan didn't flinch. He just smiled wider, enjoying every second of the power he held.
Ariana's heart pounded as the weight of the situation crashed down on her. She could feel Brandon's raw, unyielding presence beside her, and the fear that gripped her didn't come from Ethan. It came from what Ethan represented—the piece of her past that Brandon would never accept.
Ethan had never really cared about Ariana—not the way Brandon did. He had used her. Manipulated her. Now, he was here again, pushing her into a corner.
Her eyes flickered toward Brandon, then to Ethan.
"Leave him alone," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough to pull Ethan's attention back to her. He took a step toward her, his gun still aimed at Kaya.
"I came for you, Ariana," he said, his tone almost gentle, as if trying to coax her back into the prison of his making. "Let's go. We can start over. Leave this man behind. You'll be safe with me. We can have everything we ever wanted."
Ariana's chest tightened. She could feel the weight of the choice pressing against her, the pull of the past versus the future that was too far out of reach to understand.
But Brandon's voice was hard, unwavering.
"No. She's not going anywhere with you."
Ethan's gaze flicked to Brandon, eyes narrowing. "You think you can control her? She's not a fucking possession, Marshall."
Brandon stepped forward, his voice low and calm, but it sent a cold chill through the room. "You don't know what she is to me, Ethan. You never did."
For a moment, it was as if the world paused—everything hung on that one sentence.
Ethan seemed to waver for the briefest of seconds, but his eyes flicked back to Ariana. He could see the conflict in her—he knew her weaknesses, how she could be broken, manipulated, and twisted. He thought he still had a hold on her.
But Ariana straightened. She looked at Brandon, and then, finally, back at Ethan.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said firmly.
Ethan's expression darkened, but he didn't raise his gun. Instead, he laughed—a humorless sound that grated on Ariana's nerves.
"Fine," he said, dropping his arm. "But remember this, Ariana. You'll never escape me. Not really."
And with that, he turned and vanished into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
The room seemed to exhale a collective breath.
Ariana stood there, trembling, as the tension began to melt away. But even as Ethan left, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.
Brandon was the first to move. He was by her side in an instant, his hand brushing against her arm, his fingers warm and reassuring.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer than it had been since they'd entered the room.
Ariana nodded, but it didn't feel like enough. Ethan's words lingered in her mind, twisting and coiling like a snake.
"I'm fine," she said quietly.
But deep down, she knew that everything had changed.
Brandon's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with an anger that still hadn't fully dissipated. "I won't let him near you again. He's dead."
Ariana turned toward him. She could see it in his eyes—the promise of destruction, the promise of war. And in that moment, she realized just how deep she was in. Just how much of herself she had already given to him.
"I know," she whispered. "But what if we can't outrun him forever?"
Brandon's hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. "Then we'll burn everything down."
And with that, she knew he meant it.