Jet engine roars filled the silence between them. Below, the world was a patchwork of clouds and moonlight silver, but Adriana barely noticed. Stiffly, she sat. in the leather seat of Damian's private aircraft, her fists around a glass of untouched wine.
Across from her, Damian lounged like a banished king, collar drawn open, black eyes sparkling with humor as though the entire world was his theater.
"You've flown before, bella," he languidly drawled. "Why do you appear as though you're expecting to be given an execution rather than first class?"
Adriana's mouth drew into a tight line. "I'm used to flights where I come for negotiations, boardroom battles not corporate spying in Milan."
His grin widened. "Then tonight you'll learn negotiations come in many forms. Some use contracts. Others… knives."
The Uneasy Alliance
She looked away, out the window, but she couldn't shake his words. Damian thrived in chaos, where every risk was fuel. She, on the other hand, had built her life on order, precision, control.
And yet here she was, strapped into his world, her kingdom dissolving around her, her heart pounding in ways she refused to admit.
"You're having fun, aren't you?" she whispered.
Damian whirled his whiskey, eyes fixed on hers. "I'm enjoying watching you shed the last fragments of your cage. The more you shatter your own boundaries, the nearer you come to being yourself."
Her heart skipped. "And who is this, exactly?"
He leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees. "A queen who does not just rule from her throne—she conquers."
The words were dropped like a weight, dangerously. She ached to laugh, to tease him, but the fire in his eyes kindled something inside of her. Something she could not yet put into words.
Julian's Warnings
Julian sat rigid two rows back, his voice ringing out as if to banish tension. "The Moranos won't let Valtrez Holdings go down without a fight. If we get caught, they won't prosecute they'll bury us."
Damian didn't bother to glance at him. "If we get caught, Julian, you'll be the first body they find."
Julian paled, falling back into silence.
Adriana looked at Damian, disapproving. "Do you always have to begin with threats?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Threats make men like him valuable. Fear is a sharper chain than loyalty."
Her voice was cold steel. "And yet, I built an empire on loyalty. My people followed me because they trusted me."
Damian sneered. "And where are they now?"
The barb bit deep. She moved her head, her chest tightening. He never apologized, but the silence that followed seemed softer somehow, as though he'd nudged her to see if she would break.
Hours later, when the jet went into night mode and descended, Adriana couldn't rest. She leaned on the minuscule bar near the window, gazing out at the endless black expanse of sky.
Damian trailed behind her in silence, his presence crushing even when quiet. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, offering it to her.
"You need to sleep," he breathed.
"I won't." Her voice was gruffier than she meant it to be. "Every time I sleep, I have nightmares about the raid. My people fleeing. The newspaper headlines. My father's name trampled in the mud."
Damian leaned back against the counter, watching her. "You're haunted by too many demons."
She swallowed hard, her throat closing over. "My dad constructed it all. And now it's falling apart, piece by piece. What if I'm not able to save it?"
For the first time ever, Damian did not react with snappishness or bluster. Instead, he stepped closer, so close she could feel his warmth. "Then you construct something new. Stronger. Larger. Freer. And this time, you won't do it by yourself."
Her breath caught. His hand grazed hers as he reached for the glass, setting it aside. The touch remained, sparks racing beneath her skin.
For a moment, she almost rested her face in his chest. Almost.
Then Julian moved behind them, coughing awkwardly, and the moment was lost. Adriana stepped back, encasing steel around her heart again.
Damian's eyes remained on hers, dark with some unsaid message. But he didn't speak.
The aircraft made its landing at a private airfield on the outskirts of Milan just before dawn. The sky had turned pale pink over the Alps, and the city was spread out like a jewel in the early light.
Adriana readjusted her coat as they stepped out into the morning chill, her heels snapping on the tarmac. Damian trailed behind her, looking totally relaxed, his men already moving with quiet efficiency.
"Where's the server located?" Adriana asked, her voice brisk.
Julian, clutching his laptop like a lifeline, replied quickly. "A Morano-controlled bank downtown. The files are kept in a private server room under the guise of financial data storage. High security biometrics, surveillance, guards."
Damian's smile was almost boyish. "Perfect. Nothing worth stealing is ever easy."
Adriana shot him a look. "We're not stealing, Damian. We're exposing. There's a difference."
He smiled. "Not to the men with guns."
The Safehouse
They rode in silence along the narrow streets of Milan until they reached a townhouse unobtrusively situated in a quiet neighborhood. Inside, Damian's men had already turned it into a safehouse maps covering the walls, equipment laid out, surveillance feeds humming on screens.
Adriana navigated the room, heels clicking against hardwood floors, assessing every detail. Not her office, but it held the same hum of tension, of war planning in the air.
Damian materialized behind her, his presence a gravity she couldn't shake. "Nervous?"
She whirled on him. "Focused."
He smiled dryly. "Good. Focus gets the job done. Fear only feeds your enemies."
Their eyes lingered for a moment too long, unspoken motives sliding like undertows. Then Julian's voice intruded once again.
"I can get us in through the bank's electronic firewall, but the physical servers… we'll require access. A keycard, fingerprints, something."
Damian leaned against the wall, considering. "Then we find someone who already has it."
Adriana's brow creased. "Meaning?"
His smile reappeared, cruel and deadly. "Meaning, bella, we hunt."
That night, with the city shining brightly outside the windows of the safehouse, Adriana stood alone on the balcony, the weight of Milan crushing down on her shoulders. This was no boardroom. No quarterly war. This was a war fought in the dark, where one wrong step was disaster or death.
Damian stood beside her, silent. Then, softly: "Once we make this leap, there's no turning back."
She regarded him, the city lights shimmering in her eyes. "I know."
He grinned slowly and coldly. "Then let's not miss."
Below on the streets, Milan pulsed with life. Somewhere within that city, the Moranos' secrets hid, behind steel and glass. And tomorrow night, they would claim them.