Sabrina’s voice shouldn’t have been so weak. That was the first thing Aria noticed. The woman who once stalked Wolfe Tower like a viper in heels was standing in the back hallway of the loading docks—barefoot, shaking, a bruise blooming purple across her cheekbone like a dying flower. Her hair hung limp. Her red lipstick was smeared, not purposeful this time, not weaponized. Just ruined.
“Aria.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t scream. I’m not here to fight.”
Aria froze where she stood, fingers tightening around the folder she’d been carrying. The air smelled of gasoline and wet cement. Far away, the Tower hummed with the low thunder of pre-war operations, Damian’s men preparing for the Serpent Circle’s next strike. It should’ve felt secure.
It didn’t.
“What do you want?” Aria whispered, fighting the urge to call security.
Sabrina staggered forward, clutching a pillar for balance. Her wrists were raw—rope burns. “To save your life,” she breathed. “Maybe even his.”
Aria’s stomach hollowed. “Damian?”
Sabrina let out a trembling laugh, brittle enough to break. “They’re coming for him. You. All of you. The Serpent Circle has been inside this building for months.”
“That’s impossible,” Aria snapped. “Damian has every entrance locked. Every floor monitored.”
Sabrina’s eyes lifted—wild, frantic, glassy with sleepless terror. “There’s a mole inside Wolfe Tower.”
Aria stiffened. “Damian already suspected that.”
“You’re not listening.” Sabrina limped closer, desperation leaking through every step. “It’s someone trusted. Someone close. Someone who has been feeding intel directly to the Serpents.”
“Who?” Aria demanded, heart slamming against her ribs. “Who?!”
Sabrina swallowed, her throat trembling.
“Rina.”
The name detonated in Aria’s mind like a charge beneath the floorboards.
“No,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Rina has been with Damian for six years. She saved my life during the second bombing. She—she’s loyal.”
“Loyal to the highest bidder,” Sabrina hissed. “She’s been selling pieces of him for years. Information. Schedules. Weak points. The Circle offered her freedom from the Syndicate in exchange for a single target.”
Aria’s blood turned to ice.
Damian.
Sabrina didn’t smirk. Didn’t gloat. Didn’t revel in delivering heartbreak the way she used to. This Sabrina looked… broken. Terrified. Sincere.
“They’re going to kill him tonight, Aria.” Her voice cracked at the edges. “And then they’ll come for you. They think you’re the real threat now.”
Aria’s breath vanished entirely.
“But why tell me?” she demanded, stepping forward despite herself. “Why warn me at all?”
Sabrina’s eyes filled—not with fury this time, but something painfully human.
“Because I’ve loved that man my entire life,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “And he never loved me back. But he loves you. It’s disgusting. Unfair. Infuriating.” She dragged a hand over her face. “But I don’t want to watch him die.”
For one fragile heartbeat, the hallway fell silent.
Then Sabrina stepped back, her body folding with exhaustion. “I can’t stay. They’ll kill me if they know I came to you.”
“Wait—” Aria reached out, but Sabrina flinched away.
A metal hatch creaked open behind her, revealing a dark maintenance tunnel stretching into the underground. Sabrina disappeared into it without another word, swallowed by shadows that had become her only home.
Aria stood there trembling, the world tilting around her.
No. No.
Not Rina.
Not Damian’s Rina.
Not the woman he trusted to run his communications, his intel, his schedules—his life.
Aria spun and ran.
Her boots pounded the concrete. She tore through the security doors, raced past guards who shouted her name, sprinted toward the executive elevators. Her heartbeat thundered louder than the alarms still echoing from the earlier explosion.
She didn’t wait for the elevator—she took the stairs, three steps at a time, lungs burning.
“Damian!” she choked out as she burst onto the penthouse floor.
He was in the war room, leaning over a spread of maps with Jaxon and Rina—Rina—standing at his side, typing orders into her tablet with calm efficiency.
Aria skidded to a stop. Her chest heaved. Her vision swam.
Damian lifted his head the moment he heard her.
“Aria?” His voice softened immediately. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Rina turned too, her expression the perfect mask of concern.
Aria stared at her—really stared.
And for the first time, she saw it.
The slight tremble. The faint smear of dust on her sleeves. The tiny nick on her cheek that hadn’t been there that morning. Her pupils too wide. Her breathing too fast. The way her hand gripped the tablet just a little too tightly—like someone who was afraid she’d been found out.
Aria’s mouth felt dry. “Damian,” she said slowly, eyes locked on Rina. “We need to talk. Now.”
Damian frowned, stepping toward her. “Aria, tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook her head frantically. “Not here. Not with—”
Rina’s tablet pinged. A single vibration.
She looked down.
And her expression flickered.
Fear. Panic. A decision.
Damian noticed. “Rina?”
But it was already too late.
Her other hand slid behind her back.
Aria lunged.
“Damian, MOVE!”
Rina’s knife flashed in the cold fluorescent light.
Not aimed at Aria.
Aimed at Damian’s spine.
Chaos erupted in the room.
Jaxon shouted. Damian spun. Rina’s blade grazed his shoulder, sparks of blood spraying across the table.
Aria grabbed the nearest object—a steel briefing folder—and slammed it into Rina’s wrist. The knife clattered to the floor. Rina hissed, stepping back, eyes filled with hatred older than her loyalty.
“You should’ve stayed caged, girl,” she snarled at Aria. “The Serpents wanted him first. But you? You’re the bonus.”
Damian’s roar shook the walls.
“RINA.”
He lunged, slamming her against the glass wall, his hand crushing her wrist until bones popped. Rina screamed, but Damian didn’t blink.
“You were family,” he growled, voice shaking with betrayal so deep it bled. “I trusted you with my life.”
Rina spat blood in his face. “Then you’re a fool.”
Damian’s grip tightened.
Aria ran to him, grabbing his arm. “Damian—stop. Stop!”
Her touch was the only thing that reached him. His chest heaved. His jaw clenched so hard it trembled.
Rina slumped, defeated but grinning through broken teeth.
“You can’t stop it,” she whispered. “They’re already inside the building.”
Alarms screamed to life.
Automatic gunfire erupted somewhere below.
Explosions rattled the walls.
Damian’s fury fell away, replaced by something colder. Sharper. Lethal.
He turned to Aria, grabbing her face with both hands.
“Stay with me,” he breathed, voice shaking. “No matter what happens, stay beside me.”
Aria nodded—even though her pulse was a storm. “Always.”
Damian kissed her forehead—swift, desperate, a vow forged in panic.
Then he turned to Jaxon.
“Lock Rina in the panic cell. Then arm the floors. The Serpent Circle is here.”
And to Aria—
“You don’t leave my sight.”
The war had finally breached the Tower.
And this time, there would be no mercy.