The elevator smelled like cheap perfume and fear. Aria stood at the back, dark hair tied at the nape of her neck. She was silent, watching the numbers climb one by one. The women around her filled the tight space with smiles on their faces, adjusting dresses that were never meant to cover much in the first place.
"You're new?" one of them asked, smiling too easily. "Don't forget to go for the rich ones."
Aria held her gaze for a second and smiled. "Thanks,"
She shifted slightly, ignoring the cold press of metal against her thigh. The blade rested exactly where she had strapped it, hidden beneath her silk that revealed her smooth thigh. Another blade lay flat against her back. A smaller one tucked along her arm. Her father's voice echoed in her mind, steady and unyielding.
Never walk into a place like this unarmed
Her throat tightened. For a moment, she saw him, standing across from her in his study, sleeve rolled, teaching her how to hold a blade like it was part of her hand. Like a survivor.
The door slide open, and the world changed. Music spilled in first, heavy, pulsing through the air like a heartbeat. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, wrapping around bright lights. She stepped out, swaying her hips along with the others. She kept her head lowered as she moved deeper into the room, letting her eyes do the work instead. A guard at the bar and two near the far wall. Then, she saw him.
He sat at lazily at the center of the room. Fat, legs spread slightly, glass of dark liquor in hand, gold rings catching the light on his fat fingers. She moved closer, smiling to him. Her fingers brushed his thigh and he smiled. And the next second, she struck. The knife drove into his chest, scratching his heart. The man gasped, choking on shock as his drink crashed to the floor. For a split second, the room froze. His men rushed to her but she moved before they could think. She twisted her leg, kicking one gun aside, then another. A second guard lunged, and she drove her elbow into his throat, forcing him back. Before the rest could fire, she grabbed their boss, yanking him forward, the blade digging deeper to his chest.
"Move," she said, her voice low. "and he dies."
The man writhed in her grip, his eyes wide, blood soaking through his shirt. Aria leaned closer, her voice whisper against his ear. "Why did you kill Vale?"
The name felt like fire in her throat.
"I didn't-" he choked, wincing as the blade pressed deeper. "I didn't kill him."
"In an hour, if your wound is not treated, you'll die from blood loss," she murmured. "I'll ask for the last time," she tilted his face up. "Why did you kill him?"
His eyes flickered with something real. "The Debt collector," he rasped. "He did it."
The words hit harder than any bullet and she stilled. Because that name sounded like a warning.
Her dad's house didn't look like a place someone died in. It looked like something off an architecture page. Clean glass walls, soft lighting built to the ceilings like it was part of the air itself. Everything was open, minimal, expensive without trying too hard.
The living space stretched out in quiet perfection. Low cream sofas, a sunken lounge area. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the compound, where security moved in slow, practiced patterns. Cameras blinked in the corners. Watching.
She leaned against the edge of the dresser, scrolling through her phone without checking messages. None of them mattered. She was set to one thing. Revenge. She remembered the gunshot that ended things. Changed her. She could remember seeing her dad lying on his study chair, dead. Someone who knew him well killed him and wiped the camera footage.
Kelvin, her uncles assistant, tall with brown hair stepped inside, already dressed like he had somewhere important to be. Which, knowing him, he probably did. He leaned slightly against the doorframe, studying her for a second.
"Your uncle is here,"
"Which one?"
Because after her dad's death, his family members had been all around her claiming to be an uncle.
"The one who comes all the time."
Aria pushed herself off the dresser. "Let him wait."
Kelvin nodded once, like he'd expected that answer, and stepped out again. She grabbed her phone and texted Linda who called back immediately. Loud music blasted through the speaker.
"I saw your message just now!" Linda yelled through the phone. "Aria, if this is about work, I swear-"
"It is."
"What? No. I'm at a wedding trying to have fun for once ever since you're pig-headed about this vengeance thing."
"I can hear that."
"I'm serious," Linda added. "I wish you were here and have fun for once. People are crying happily. It's a beautiful thing!"
She would have considered Linda's words if her dad had been alive. But now, he's gone. Her personality gone with him. She walked to the mirror, her reflection staring back at her.
"He's been found. The man who killed my dad."
"Are you serious? Because your findings should be worth it." Linda groaned.
"Get your black ass down here, Linda." She almost yelled. "There's work to be done. I need you to find the Debt collector."
She found her uncle in the sitting room, standing near the wide glass window that overlooked the compound. For a moment, she paused at the entrance, her hand resting slightly at the frame as she studied him without announcing herself.
He looked so much like her dad. Same height. Same way of holding himself like he was always thinking ahead of everyone else in the room. He sensed her presence, his eyes landing on her almost immediately.
"Aria,"
He walked toward her without hesitation and leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to her cheek.
"It's been a while, Uncle."
"I know," he said, exhaling quietly. "I should have come sooner. After the burial, things got complicated."
She moved first, taking her seat and crossing her legs with measured ease. He sat, leaning forward slightly.
"I asked around," he said.
She didn't react, but her eyes were fixed on him.
"Dealers, Old contacts. People who know things before they became problems." he continued carefully. "I pushed where I could."
Her gaze sharpened slightly. "And?"
He leaned back, studying her differently. "They call him the Debt collector."
Aria held his gaze, her expression unchanged, but her mind was already moving searching, connecting.
"I've heard of him," she said.
Her uncle nodded slowly, his eyes on her. "Most people have."
"What does he do?"
He smiled. "He handles things," he said. "Problems that feels like there's no way out."
"I'll find him."
The decision came easily.
"I know you're tough but you need to be careful and leave this to me." he said. "He's not like the men your father dealt with on regular basis. Rumor has it that he was a dealer at a young age."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"He's dangerous, Aria."
"So am I."