The night after their argument stretched endlessly. Aria sat curled up by the window, staring at the moonlit gardens she had once found soothing. Now they looked alien, shadowed and full of threats. She hadn't spoken to Luca all day, hadn't dared face him after hurling accusations that might never be forgiven.
The house was quieter than usual. Too quiet. She assumed Luca had ordered extra guards after their fight, but when she glanced from her balcony, she noticed fewer men patrolling the grounds. That struck her as odd, but she told herself it wasn't her business anymore. She was too tangled in heartbreak to care about strategy.
Sometime after midnight, exhaustion pulled her under.
The sound of glass shattering ripped her awake. Before she could scream, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. Shadows moved in the darkness, three, maybe four men, faces hidden beneath black masks. Panic surged through her veins. She thrashed, but one of them pressed a cold blade against her throat.
