Somewhere between the flickering neon lights and the ache in my spine, I remembered what silence felt like. Not peace, no; silence that echoed after a scream had been swallowed.
The kind of silence that follows a bullet.
I didn't sleep that night. How could I? The file I'd stolen, the secrets it held ; they hadn't just rattled cages… they'd opened a door I couldn't close again. My father's name was stamped over pages that bled. Names. Places. Dates. Payoffs. Deaths.
It was a graveyard dressed in ink.
And now… I wasn't sure whose daughter I really was.
By morning, the sun didn't rise. It burned.
I put on black. Not for mourning but for war. My leather jacket clung like armor, boots heavy with purpose. I didn't know where I was going, but standing still felt like dying.
By the time I reached the warehouse on the 45th, the one from the file;I was already being watched.
Cameras. Men in suits pretending to be shadows. The kind that didn't ask questions, just dragged bodies.
I walked right in.
Because fear is a language, and I speak it fluently.
He was there.
At the center of it all.
The man they called Aleksei.
The name had been scratched across the top of the last page in my father's file. Redacted. Circled. Labeled "UNTOUCHABLE."
He didn't look untouchable.
He looked… calm. Controlled. Dark hair, lips too sharp to be soft. And eyes like they'd seen what hell did after midnight.
"You must be Rhea," he said, sipping from a glass like this wasn't a trap.
I didn't blink. "So you've heard of me."
He smirked, slow and venomous. "Your father once made the mistake of trusting me. I assume you're here to repeat it."
I didn't answer. Instead, I threw the file on the table between us.
He glanced at it. Then back at me. "That's a dangerous thing to walk around with."
I leaned forward. "Then maybe you should tell me why my name is in it."
The glass paused mid-air. His eyes narrowed but only slightly. Just enough for me to know I'd hit something raw.
"Because," he said quietly, "your father owed blood. And you… were the insurance."
My stomach turned, but I didn't flinch.
Because flinching meant you were still soft.
And soft doesn't survive here.
I stood tall. "That debt? I'm not here to pay it."
Aleksei smiled then. Not warm. Not mocking. Just the kind of smile that knew things you didn't.
"I don't want your blood, Rhea." He stepped closer, slow like a storm. "I want your loyalty."
My heart stilled.
Loyalty? In this world?
That was the one currency more dangerous than bullets.
And I wasn't sure if I was ready to spend it.
But this… whatever this was ; this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Because Aleksei wasn't just offering a deal; he was baiting a noose. One that would either pull me closer or choke me out.
I straightened, voice low. "And if I say no?"
He raised an eyebrow, poured himself another drink like we weren't dancing on landmines. "Then you walk out of here. Alive." A pause. "But very, very watched."
I could feel them; the eyes. His men. The ones behind the mirrored glass, behind the silence, behind the heat in my neck.
"You don't threaten me."
"I don't need to." His voice dropped, velvet over venom. "Your bloodline already did the work."
I clenched my fists. He was too calm. Too careful. Like he already knew which choice I'd make before I did.
And that scared me more than his power.
Because if I wasn't careful, I'd fall right into his web.
And Rhea Morgan doesn't get caught. Ever.
I left without another word.
His voice followed me like smoke: "You'll be back. They always come back."
I didn't answer. But a part of me hated that I knew he was right.
Because the truth?
I needed him.
Not for protection. Not for favors.
For answers.
Answers about my father. About the bodies buried in our legacy. About why the Morgan name whispered through every back alley like a curse.
And why I was born to carry it.
When I got back to my flat, I locked the door twice. Then again.
Pulled the blinds.
Sat in the silence.
And shook.
Not from fear.
But from fury.
My father had turned me into a pawn.
And Aleksei just crowned me queen.
I opened the drawer under my bed and pulled out the gun. The one I swore I'd never touch again. The one I'd buried after that night.
But this wasn't about the past anymore.
It was about what I'd do next.
I stared at the black metal. Cold. Clean.
Then whispered, "If I'm going to burn for this, I'll make sure the whole kingdom falls with me."
The next morning, a red envelope slid under my door.
No stamp. No name.
Inside: a black card.
Gold letters.
> The Bloodline Ball. One night. One name. One chance.
Invitation granted by Aleksei Volkov. Dress to kill.
I smiled.
"Game on."
I tossed the card on the table and stared at it, watching how the gold lettering shimmered under the ceiling light. It felt like a challenge… or a threat in pretty packaging.
Either way, I wasn't going to ignore it.
If Aleksei wanted a performance, he'd get a damn spectacle.
I spent the rest of the day preparing, not just my look, but my mindset.
The Bloodline Ball wasn't a party. It was a hunting ground. A battlefield in silk and diamonds. Every dress was armor. Every smile, a dagger.
And tonight, I'd wear both.
I pulled out the black gown I'd kept for emergencies, the kind of emergency where you had to look like power without saying a word. The fabric wrapped around me like liquid violence. Backless. Sleeveless. Sharp at the neckline like I was born to draw blood with just my silhouette.
I stood in front of the mirror, dark eyes catching themselves.
Not the scared girl I once was.
Not the pawn in someone else's war.
But the storm.
And I was about to tear through their empire.
When I arrived, the ball was already chaos in disguise.
Men with too much money. Women with too much perfume and secrets in their smiles. The chandeliers sparkled like they didn't know they were hanging above criminals.
Eyes followed me the second I stepped in. Some with hunger. Others with fear.
A few with recognition.
Rhea Morgan.
They knew the name. And now they'd remember the face.
I spotted Aleksei near the grand staircase, wearing black-on-black like the villain in every story you're warned about. And he was talking to someone.
No. Not someone.
Him.
The other one from the file.
The ghost.
The one who was supposed to be dead.
Cassian Vale.
My stomach dropped.
Hair dark, jaw sharp, a scar trailing from his left temple down into his collar. He didn't look like someone you could trust. He looked like someone who survived because everyone else died.
And when his eyes met mine across the ballroom; silver and deadly. ....I felt something shift in the air.
Like fate had just lit a match.
Aleksei turned when he saw me, gave the slightest nod.
Cassian didn't nod.
Didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
He just watched me like I was the end of something.
And I, God help me... I watched him back like I wanted to start it all over again.
Because this game wasn't just blood and secrets anymore.
It was chemistry and danger and the promise of destruction.
And I wasn't sure which of them would ruin me first:
Aleksei Volkov, the devil with control.
Or
Cassian Vale, the dead man who still made my heart stop.
Either way...
I wasn't walking out of this clean.