The night air slapped Aria's skin as they rushed out of the safehouse, sharp, cold, carrying the distant hum of engines and the metallic scent of rain-soaked asphalt. Rafael led the way, gun drawn. Caspian stayed behind her, one hand firm on her waist, steering her like she was the only thing in the world he needed to keep upright.
Aria felt every inch of his palm.
Too much.
Not enough.
Dangerous in ways bullets could never be.
They reached a narrow back alley, shadows stretching like claws in every direction. Rafael scanned the corners. "No movement. Yet."
Caspian didn't relax.
He didn't breathe.
His hand tightened at her waist. "Get in the car."
The black SUV waited like a ghost, dark windows, engine humming quietly. Aria opened the back door, but Caspian caught her arm, stopping her.
"Sit in front."
She frowned. "Why?"
"I need to see you."
It wasn't protective.
It wasn't gentle.
It was possessive.
Her pulse tripped painfully.
She slid into the front passenger seat. He got in beside her, slamming the door shut, the sound echoing like a warning to the world outside.
Rafael settled in the back.
The SUV pulled away.
Silence filled the cabin, thick and alive.
Aria held her hands together to keep them from shaking. Caspian noticed instantly.
"You're freezing." His voice was low but sharp with worry.
"I'm fine."
He reached over and took her hands without permission, warm, steady wrapping her fingers inside his own.
Aria almost forgot how to breathe.
Caspian stared at her hands like they were something breakable. "You're still shaking."
"I'm not cold," she whispered.
He stilled.
Their eyes met.
His throat worked once, slowly. "Aria…"
But she pulled her hands gently from his grip before she lost her mind.
"Focus on the road, Caspian."
"I am."
He wasn't.
Not even close.
She exhaled, trying to steady herself. But her heart had other plans, beating too hard, too fast, too loud.
Trying to anchor herself, Aria reached into her backpack and pulled out the one thing that made sense:
Her mother's notebook.
The battered thing felt heavier than it should like the truth itself lived inside its pages.
Caspian's entire body went rigid. "Don't open that."
Aria froze. "Why?"
His jaw clenched. "Because you don't know what's inside."
"That's exactly why I need to open it."
Rafael leaned forward from the backseat. "Caspian, she deserves to see. She's been in the dark long enough."
Caspian shot him a look that could've sliced steel.
But Aria wasn't backing down.
She flipped the notebook open.
A slip of paper fell into her lap.
Folded.
Thin.
Hidden between the pages on purpose.
Her pulse stuttered.
Caspian inhaled sharply. "Aria… don't."
She unfolded it with trembling fingers.
One sentence.
Written in her mother's hand.
"If he finds you, don't trust him."
Her stomach dropped.
Caspian's face whitened with rage and something deeper flickering across his expression.
"Give me that paper," he said, reaching for it.
She held it against her chest. "No."
"Aria."
His voice broke, controlled but cracking at the edges.
"That note is old. You have no idea when or why it was written."
"But she knew you," Aria whispered. "She knew about you."
His eyes hardened. "She didn't know me."
"Then why does she think you're a danger to me?"
His jaw clenched so tightly the muscle jumped.
Rafael exhaled sharply. "Caspian…"
"Stay out of it," Caspian snapped without looking away from Aria.
Aria stared at him, searching his face, his eyes, the lines of tension shaping his whole body.
"Is it true?" she whispered.
Her voice sounded smaller than she meant.
"Did you want to hurt my mother?"
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
A long, heavy moment.
When he opened them, the truth sat in the darkness of his gaze, raw and jagged.
"Yes."
Her breath caught painfully. "You… you wanted to kill her?"
A beat.
Then another.
He shook his head once. "No."
Relief punched through her too fast.
"I wanted answers," he said, voice low and lethal. "I wanted to know what she saw. Who she talked to. Why she was there the night Isabella died."
Aria's chest tightened.
"And at one point," he added quietly, "I would've done anything to get those answers."
Her stomach twisted. "Including hurting her?"
His eyes shone with something she'd never seen from him before, exposed, vulnerable, breaking.
"Aria," he whispered, leaning forward, his knee brushing hers. "I didn't know she was innocent."
"And now?"
His breath shuddered.
"Now…" He let the word hang between them. "Now I'd burn the entire city before I let anyone touch you—or her."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Her mother's note.
Caspian's gaze.
Her pulse.
His breath.
Everything blurred together in a dangerous, unbearable tangle.
"Aria," he said softly, reaching toward her cheek. "I'm not your enemy."
She didn't pull away.
His fingers brushed her jaw.
Her pulse jumped.
He felt it.
He swallowed hard.
"I don't want to fight you."
"Then stop hiding things from me."
He exhaled through his nose like the words hit him somewhere deep. "I'm trying."
"You're not trying hard enough."
"Aria…"
Her name cracked inside his throat.
"I am trying not to hurt you."
"You're already hurting me," she whispered.
His hand froze against her skin.
The air between them tightened, too hot and breathless.
He leaned closer.
Too close.
Close enough she felt the warmth of his chest, the tremble of his breath, the way he was losing control.
"Tell me what you want from me," he whispered.
"You," she breathed.
Too honest. Too raw.
The truth slipped out before she could stop it.
His breath hitched.
The SUV swerved.
Rafael cursed.
"Caspian, eyes on the road!"
Caspian jerked back, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. But his gaze flicked toward her again, dark, hungry, shaken and she knew:
They were seconds away from a kiss that would ruin both of them.
Rafael leaned forward urgently. "We've got company."
"What kind?" Caspian growled.
"White sedan," Rafael said.
"Behind us."
Aria's blood turned to ice.
Caspian's teeth clenched. "So she wants to play."
Aria whispered, "Caspian… what if it really is her?"
He didn't look at her.
Couldn't.
"Then she picked the wrong night," he said.
The SUV accelerated.
Lightning cracked the sky.
And the white sedan followed.