Caspian's reaction was immediate.
One moment he was beside her, the next he was moving—sharp, controlled, lethal. He stepped toward the window, fingers parting the blinds just enough to look without being seen.
Aria couldn't breathe.
The quiet felt too loud.
The air too thin.
"Caspian?" she whispered.
He didn't answer right away.
His jaw locked. His shoulders tightened. A storm sharpened his expression into something cold and dangerous.
"They're parked across the street," he said finally. "Black sedan. Windows tinted. Engine running."
Aria's pulse slammed. "Are they… watching us?"
"They're watching you," he murmured. "And waiting."
She hugged her arms. "For what?"
"For an opening."
Caspian dropped the blinds and turned to her. "But they're not getting one."
For the first time, she truly saw the man Rafael always implied he could be.
Not the billionaire CEO.
Not the heir.
Not the polished danger wrapped in expensive suits.
But the protector.
The hunter.
The heir to a world where wars were fought in shadows.
He moved quickly now, opening a concealed panel behind a bookshelf. Inside was a sleek security console lit with red markers.
"Rafael doubled the guards," Caspian said, scanning the feed. "But whoever's out there… they're professionals. They're not moving until you do."
Aria swallowed. "So I'm the bait."
His head snapped toward her, eyes blazing. "No. You're the prize."
She froze.
Caspian stepped closer, voice low. "Don't ever mistake your position in this. They're not circling you to scare you. They're circling you because you're the one thing they can't find."
"Because of the file," Aria said softly.
"Because they think the file is your inheritance," he corrected. "Your mother's last secret."
Aria felt something twist—fear, grief, and a flicker of the steel she didn't know she had.
"My apartment," she whispered. "The notebook. If that's what they want, we can stop this before it gets worse."
"It is worse," Caspian said. "And going there without a plan will get you killed."
She lifted her chin. "Then make a plan."
He stared at her—really stared—like he was trying to decide if she was brave or reckless or both.
"You're not the same woman I met in that ER," he said quietly.
She almost laughed. "I can't afford to be."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Then Caspian grabbed his phone, dialed, and spoke in a tone that sent chills down her spine.
"Rafael. Now. Penthouse."
He hung up.
Aria frowned. "What are you doing?"
Caspian crossed the room to her. "If we're going back to your apartment, we're doing it with full extraction protocol."
"That sounds… extreme."
"It is."
He held her gaze.
"And necessary."
The elevator chimed.
Rafael stepped out, dressed in black tactical gear—casual, like it was normal attire for a Tuesday night. He took one look at Caspian, then at Aria.
"What now?" Rafael said.
"We need to retrieve an item from her apartment," Caspian replied.
Rafael's eyebrow lifted. "In front of a surveillance tail? Fun."
Aria crossed her arms. "Can you help or not?"
Rafael smirked. "I like her."
"Focus," Caspian snapped.
Rafael held up a hand. "Relax. I'll run interference. You take the girl. You get the item. You get out."
Aria stiffened. "I'm not just 'the girl.' I have a name."
Rafael grinned. "Good. You're going to need that fire where we're going."
"Enough," Caspian growled. "We leave in five."
Rafael's smile faded as he turned to Aria.
"Once we step out, there's no pause button," he warned. "No running back. No second chances."
Aria nodded. "I understand."
Caspian stepped close—too close—tilting her chin up gently with two fingers.
"You stay with me," he murmured. "Always. No matter what you see. No matter what you hear."
Her breath hitched. "I trust you."
A muscle in his jaw jumped.
"That's the dangerous part," he whispered.
They moved fast after that.
Caspian retrieved a weapon from a locked case—not flashy, not dramatic, just a quiet promise of protection. Rafael checked the exits. The security feed flickered for a moment, then settled.
Aria's heart pounded as they approached the elevator.
This was happening.
She was stepping out of safety and into the open, where someone was already waiting to take her.
Caspian hit the elevator button.
The doors opened.
He stepped inside first.
Then turned, offering her his hand.
Aria stared at it.
Steady. Strong.
A lifeline wrapped in danger and heat.
She slipped her hand into his.
His fingers tightened around hers.
The elevator doors slid shut—
and somewhere across the street, the black sedan's headlights blinked on.
They knew.
She was coming.