---
---
The night after Aria threw the key off the rooftop, a storm rolled in.
Not the kind that rattled windows or flooded streets.
The kind that ended in blood.
Raiden didn't sleep. He sat by the window, smoking, the barrel of his pistol gleaming under the low light. His eyes were distant, lost in thoughts darker than the thunder outside.
Aria watched him from the bed, curled under the thin sheets, heart pounding like a trapped bird.
She could feel it — the end of something, the beginning of something worse.
By dawn, the call came.
Raiden picked up without hesitation.
Listened for less than a minute.
Then hung up with a grim face.
"They're here," he said.
---
The convoy that arrived wasn't subtle.
Four black cars, armed guards in suits, the type who didn't flinch at the thought of dying.
Aria stood behind Raiden as the double doors swung open.
The man who stepped inside first was tall, graying, with sharp Italian features that reminded her of photographs she had burned years ago.
Her throat dried.
"Dad," she whispered.
Giovanni Moretti smiled like the devil himself.
"Figlia mia," he said in a silky tone. "My beautiful daughter. How you've grown."
Raiden tensed. His body was like a loaded weapon, his hand casually resting on the gun holstered at his hip.
"You shouldn't be here," Raiden said coldly.
Giovanni chuckled. "We have unfinished business, boy."
His eyes slid to Aria, devouring her with a gaze that made her stomach turn.
"As lovely as your mother," he said. "And twice as valuable."
Aria stepped closer to Raiden, feeling the heat of his protection like armor around her.
"You're not taking her," Raiden growled.
Giovanni raised an eyebrow. "You think you can stop bloodlines from calling, son? She's Moretti blood. She belongs with us."
Aria shook her head fiercely. "I don't belong to you. I never did."
Giovanni's face darkened.
"You owe me, girl. Your life. Your education. Everything you have was bought with my blood deals."
"No," she spat. "You sold me before I was even born."
The guards shifted at the insult, but Giovanni held up a hand. His smile returned, oily and false.
"I'll forgive your little tantrum. Come peacefully, Aria, and no blood has to spill tonight."
Raiden stepped forward, blocking her completely from Giovanni's view.
His voice was pure death.
"Over my dead body."
Giovanni smiled wider.
"As you wish."
Gunfire erupted.
---
Raiden moved faster than she could blink.
In one fluid motion, he shoved her down, covered her body with his own, and fired at the guards with deadly precision.
Aria's ears rang, heart hammering, as she crawled toward the fallen weapons. She grabbed a pistol from a dead man's hand and turned, shooting one of Giovanni's men before he could aim at Raiden's back.
Blood sprayed the marble floors.
Men screamed and fell.
Giovanni retreated behind the last car, his face twisted in rage.
"This isn't over!" he shouted before disappearing into the car.
The engines roared to life and the convoy fled into the storm.
---
The silence afterward was almost worse than the noise.
Raiden stood among the bodies, chest heaving, blood splattered across his skin like a dark crown.
Aria dropped the gun, her hands trembling.
He crossed to her in three strides, lifted her chin roughly, and searched her face.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. Tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall.
"You killed," he whispered. Not accusing. Not judging.
Just a truth spoken between them.
"I'd do it again," she said. "For you."
His face broke, just for a second.
And then he crushed his mouth to hers.
Their kiss wasn't sweet. It wasn't even desperate.
It was survival.
They kissed like two sinners who knew Heaven would never open its gates for them.
Like two monsters who didn't deserve peace, only each other.
Raiden pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead to hers.
"They'll come again," he rasped. "Stronger. Harder. Next time, they'll bring the whole goddamn family."
"I'm ready," she said.
His fingers tightened in her hair.
"I'm not," he whispered hoarsely. "I can't lose you, Aria."
"You won't," she promised, pressing a hand to his heart. "As long as you keep fighting, I'll keep breathing."
---
The decision was made that night.
They would flee.
Not out of fear.
Out of strategy.
If Giovanni wanted war, he'd get it. But not on his terms.
Raiden pulled out a battered old map, spreading it over the bloodstained table.
"We'll go here," he said, stabbing a finger at a spot in Northern Italy.
"An abandoned monastery. Deep underground, beneath the catacombs—that's where the original vault is hidden."
Aria leaned over the map, tracing the roads and rivers with trembling fingers.
"And we'll find it before he does?"
Raiden's smile was pure savagery.
"We'll bury him with it."
---
The plane was a private one. No lights. No records.
In the dead of night, they disappeared from the city like ghosts.
Aria sat by the window, staring out into the velvet sky.
Raiden beside her, silent, dangerous, alive.
"Do you regret it?" she asked softly. "Choosing me over your empire?"
He turned, his jaw hard, his eyes softer.
"I didn't choose you over my empire, Aria."
He leaned in, brushing her knuckles with his lips.
"I chose you because you are my empire."
---
When they landed in Italy, the air was cold and biting.
The monastery loomed in the distance like a dark wound against the horizon.
Raiden adjusted the gun at his waist.
"No more running," he said grimly.
Aria nodded. She pulled on her gloves, tightened the strap on her shoulder holster.
"Let's end this," she said.
Together, they stepped into the night, into the teeth of the enemy, into a future soaked in blood and love and death.
They were no longer just man and woman.
They were war incarnate.
And they would not bow.
Not to kings.
Not to bloodlines.
Not even to destiny itself.
---
To be continued...
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