Serena Vale sat stiff at the long dining table, surrounded by people who carried her blood but none of her trust. Silver cutlery gleamed. Expensive wine poured. The chandelier above her head burned hot enough to make sweat bead at the back of her neck, but no one dared strip off their jackets. Vale dinners were performances, not meals.
Her father sat at the head, silent, face carved from stone. Beside him, her uncle droned on about shipments, contracts, men who needed "reminders" about who ran this city. His voice was the same as last night at the auction—sharp, steady, full of command.
Serena didn't hear a damn word. She kept seeing Aria's face in the stairwell, the cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes, the way her voice had dropped low when she said Careful what you wish for, princess.
"Serena," her uncle's voice cut in, snapping her back. "You're distracted."
She blinked, forcing her jaw to tighten. "I'm fine."
"No," her father said finally, slow and heavy. "You're not. You've been slipping." His gaze was cold steel. "I don't raise daughters to wander. Vale women don't get the luxury of curiosity. You understand?"
Her stomach tightened. She forced herself to nod. "Yes, sir."
Her uncle leaned forward, smirk sharp. "Good. Because if I find out you've been entertaining…distractions…we'll cut that problem out before it spreads."
Serena clenched her fork so hard it nearly snapped. She didn't respond. She never did.
But later, in her room, she stared out at the city lights and whispered, "Fuck you."
Across the city, Aria was making her own kind of dinner—burnt noodles in a dented pot on a stove that clicked like it might blow. The apartment smelled like smoke and mildew. The walls were so thin she could hear her neighbor's TV blasting some shitty soap opera.
She stirred the noodles, smirking to herself. "Princess probably hasn't even boiled water in her life."
Still, her hand shook when she lit another cigarette. The kiss they'd almost had—the heat in Serena's eyes when she'd grabbed her wrist—Aria couldn't shake it. She told herself it was just a game. Just a distraction. But it didn't feel like one.
You're getting sloppy, she thought. One kiss, and you're acting like some lovesick idiot? Get a grip.
A knock at her door pulled her out of it. Three sharp bangs. Aria's shoulders tensed. No one came here unless they wanted something.
She cracked the door and found Kellan—skinny, jittery, eyes too wide from whatever shit he'd been smoking. He grinned, showing teeth yellowed from cheap powder.
"Aria, baby," he said, voice high. "Got a deal. Big score. You in?"
She sighed. "You're still breathing, so I guess I didn't warn you hard enough last time."
"C'mon. Quick job. Easy grab. We hit the docks, lift a shipment before sunrise. I've got a buyer ready to throw cash at us."
Aria dragged on her cigarette, blowing smoke in his face. "You want easy money? Rob a fucking toddler. I don't do half-ass jobs."
Kellan laughed nervously, backing up. "You'll change your mind. You always do."
She slammed the door in his face. Her noodles had gone cold.
"Fuck this city," she muttered, tossing the pot in the sink.
Two nights later, Serena ditched her driver again. This time, she pulled a hood low over her hair, traded silk for black jeans and boots. She shouldn't be doing this. If anyone from her family saw her, she'd be dragged home and locked down until her bones turned to dust.
But she needed to see her.
The streets stank worse tonight—garbage sour in the alleys, exhaust hanging heavy. The further she walked, the more the towers behind her looked like they belonged to another planet.
She turned down a narrow block, graffiti sprayed across every wall, and froze.
Aria.
She was there, leaning against a cracked lamppost, cigarette glowing between her fingers, laughing with two men who looked just as sharp and dangerous as she did. She didn't look like she needed anyone. Didn't look like she'd spent the last few nights replaying anything.
Serena's stomach twisted. She felt stupid. Like she was already the second choice in a game she didn't know the rules to.
She started to turn away, but Aria's voice cut through the night.
"Princess."
The word froze her in place.
Aria had already left the men behind and was walking toward her, smirk curling, eyes glinting under the lamplight.
"You really don't quit, do you?" she said, stopping close enough that Serena smelled smoke and sweat, raw and real.
Serena forced herself to hold her ground. "Neither do you."
Aria chuckled low, shaking her head. "You keep chasing me, princess, one day your daddy's empire is gonna notice. And when they do? They'll chew me up just to teach you a lesson."
Serena's chest tightened. "Then why the fuck are you still standing here?"
Aria leaned in, lips almost brushing her ear. "Because I want to see how far you're willing to fall."
The words sent a shiver down Serena's spine, one she couldn't shake even as Aria pulled back, smirk sharp enough to cut.
And then—behind them—the two men Aria had been talking to started walking over. Eyes sharp. Faces unreadable.
"Friends of yours?" Serena asked, low, warning in her tone.
Aria's smirk didn't fade. "Depends on how you define 'friend.'"
The men kept coming.
Serena's pulse hammered.
For the first time, she realized this wasn't just a game.