### ** The Weight of Fire**
Kael sat in the corner of the safe house, the television flickering in the background, casting erratic shadows across the wall. The footage was silent, but the images were loud—black smoke pouring from a warehouse, bodies being dragged out, news anchors mouthing theories.
He recognized the building. He recognized the signature.
Aurora.
He let out a slow, rattled breath. *Goddamn her*.
She said she'd strike back, but Kael hadn't expected this. Not the fire. Not the blood.
"She really did it," Elias muttered from across the room. He stood with his arms folded, watching the same footage. "She's not playing anymore."
Kael ran a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. "She never was."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
"I thought working with her would get us ahead," Kael muttered. "But now I'm starting to feel like she's dragging us down with her."
"You didn't seem to think that when she saved your ass twice," Elias shot back.
"That was survival. This is something else," Kael said sharply. "This is war."
He stood, paced. His ribs ached from the shooting, and he hadn't slept since he got back from the hospital. The adrenaline hadn't left his bloodstream. He still heard the gunshots, still tasted blood.
"I need to know what we're doing," Kael said. "This can't just be us reacting. Moretti's not stupid—he'll retaliate."
Elias sighed. "I'm laying low like we planned. But you—your name's in every whisper now. Aurora made sure of that."
Kael looked up. "What do you mean?"
"She made you a symbol. Not a pawn. Something worse. Something valuable."
Kael felt a knot tighten in his chest. "You think she's using me?"
"I think *everyone* is," Elias said bluntly.
Kael sat again, quieter this time. The weight of the truth sank in.
He'd thought he was playing a dangerous game with Aurora, thought maybe he could use her connections to unearth something deeper. But maybe she'd always been one step ahead.
She hadn't saved him just to protect him.
She'd saved him to own him.
Elias pulled a flash drive from his coat pocket. "The CCTV footage," he said. "From your apartment. The ones who shot you—one of them is ex-military. I traced his ID. Guess where he worked after retirement?"
Kael stared. "Don't say it."
"Moretti. Private security. Blacklisted in three countries. These weren't thugs, Kael. They were assets."
Kael's stomach turned.
"We have enough to make a dent," Elias continued. "But not without getting buried first."
Kael stood. "Then we need Aurora."
Elias blinked. "Seriously? After what she just did?"
"She didn't strike because of business. She struck because she was warning Moretti." He looked Elias dead in the eyes. "I think she knows something. Something bigger. And if I'm already bait in this war, I might as well find out who's really pulling the strings."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "You sure this isn't something else? That woman's got you tied up tighter than a noose."
Kael didn't answer. Because maybe it was true. Maybe it was more than strategy. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it was obsession. Or maybe it was that look in her eyes—the one that burned like she was the only match in the dark.
He grabbed his coat.
"Where are you going?" Elias asked.
"To find her," Kael said. "Before Moretti does."
---
(Continued): The Weight of Fire
It didn't take Kael long to find her. Aurora was predictable in only one way—when she wanted to be found, she left a trail. Clean. Subtle. Like perfume on silk. The kind of trail designed for someone smart enough to follow, but not foolish enough to come unprepared.
Kael was both.
He ditched the car halfway through the hills and approached the estate by foot. A fortress carved into the cliffs overlooking the city's bones, her mansion stood tall and defiant—much like her. Gated, shadowed, silent. But she was there. He could feel it.
The guards let him in without a word. Clearly, he was expected.
The moment he stepped into the marbled foyer, she appeared at the top of the staircase—draped in a blood-red silk robe, hair loosely tied, gun holstered against her thigh like it belonged there. Because it did.
"I figured you'd come," she said, her voice a slow drag of smoke. "You never could stay away from trouble."
"I didn't know you were trouble when I met you," Kael replied, eyes sharp.
She smirked. "You're a fast learner."
He didn't waste time. "We need to talk."
Aurora studied him for a second longer before nodding and turning on her heel. "Then follow me."
They walked through a long corridor lined with artwork, relics of war and wealth, until they reached her private study—a room cloaked in deep shadows and softer secrets. The fireplace glowed. Two tumblers of scotch were already poured.
Kael frowned. "You were sure I'd come."
"I'm rarely wrong," she said, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Drink?"
He ignored the glass. "You knew the attack on Moretti would trigger a bloodbath. What was your endgame?"
"My endgame," Aurora said, swirling the glass, "was reminding him that I'm not someone to cross. He took a deal that was mine. He cost me millions. That was business. But letting him get comfortable? That's bad for the ecosystem."
"You're escalating this war."
"No, Kael. I am the war. And Moretti's just another man who forgot that."
Kael looked away, jaw clenched. "He's got eyes everywhere. Officers. Judges. If he finds out we're working together—"
"Let him," Aurora cut in. "He already knows you're not just a lawyer anymore. That gunshot wound? That wasn't random. That was a message."
"I figured," Kael muttered.
She stood then, walked slowly to him, gaze locked on his face. "So now you're here. Tell me what you want, Kael."
He looked up. "Protection. Access. Information. You have resources. I have evidence. If we combine—"
"You want to use me," she said flatly.
"No," Kael said. "I want to work with you. There's a difference."
A long pause stretched between them. The fire crackled.
Aurora finally moved closer, her presence a pull. "And what makes you think I won't use you instead?"
"You already are," Kael said, barely above a whisper. "And I'm letting you."
That stopped her for a second. Then, she chuckled—low and dangerous.
"You're either very brave," she murmured, "or very stupid."
"Maybe both."
She leaned in, her face inches from his. "Then let's make a deal, counselor. You give me what I want—every shred of information you have on Moretti—and I'll give you what you need: protection, safe houses, men. And if we play this right? We can destroy his empire from both ends."
Kael didn't flinch. "Fine. But I want full control over how we release the evidence. I'm not here to help you build your own kingdom on top of his ashes."
Aurora's smile faded. "Agreed. For now."
They shook hands, a moment thick with electricity, tension barely held in check.
She poured herself another drink. "One more thing, Kael."
"What?"
"If you ever lie to me—just once—I'll bury you before Moretti gets the chance."
Kael met her eyes, unfazed. "Same goes for you."
She grinned.
They had drawn the line, and now they'd dance across it—together.