Morning light streamed through the grand windows of the Devereux estate, bathing the expansive halls in a warm glow. Once, this place belonged to a family lost to time. Now, it was hers.
Ariella cradled Eleanor in the nursery, gently rocking her as she watched her daughter's tiny fingers wrap around her own.
This was her hard-won victory.
Yet, despite her desire to believe the conflict was over, a nagging feeling told her otherwise.
She sensed it—the burden of something unresolved, lurking in the dark.
Leo entered quietly, his presence a calming force. He kissed her temple and placed a hand on her lower back. "You're overthinking again."
Ariella smiled slightly. "And you always say that."
Leo looked at her intently, his gaze piercing. "Because it's true. You don't trust in peace."
Ariella sighed, adjusting Eleanor in her arms. "That's because peace has never lasted for me."
Leo's expression hardened. He had fought too many battles with her to argue.
But this time, he wouldn't allow the shadows of their past to take away what they had built.
And neither would she.
Rebuilding What Was Stolen
Ariella was not just reclaiming her identity—she was restoring an empire.
The Devereux wealth had been scattered, stolen, and hidden in offshore accounts and fake trusts, but now?
She was bringing it all back.
Carter sat across from her in the estate's study, piles of documents laid out before him. "We've recovered eighty percent of what was lost. The rest is… tricky.
Ariella raised an eyebrow. "Tricky how?"
Carter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Some of it is still linked to Order loyalists. People who worked in the shadows, like Silas Vaughn. If we push too hard, we might provoke them."
Ariella's heart raced. "That doesn't sound like a problem."
Vincent lounged on the couch, whiskey in hand, with a sly grin. "You enjoy a good fight, don't you, darling?"
Ariella met his eyes, her own grin matching his. "I enjoy winning."
Leo, who had been quietly observing, leaned in, fingers interlaced. "If we draw them out, we must be prepared. No surprises this time."
Ariella agreed. "We'll reclaim everything. And if the Order is still standing…"
Her expression turned serious.
"We'll finish them ourselves."
The first hint that the battle wasn't over came late at night.
Ariella had just put Eleanor to bed when she heard it—the soft creak of floorboards outside the room.
Leo was at her side in a flash, gun ready, moving with lethal focus.
Ariella stayed close, her hand near the dagger strapped to her thigh.
They crept through the house like hunters, but when they reached the main foyer—
There was nothing.
Just a single white envelope on the marble table.
Leo snatched it up, his body tense, prepared for an ambush that didn't happen.
Ariella took the letter from him, her stomach knotting as she opened it.
Only three words were inside.
"You are not alone."
Ariella gasped.
Leo's voice was low and menacing. "They're still watching."
Ariella gritted her teeth. "Then let's give them a show."
Ariella had never been one to wait.
If the Order wanted to hide, she would take control.
Days later, she planned a grand return to the Devereux estate, reclaiming her wealth and her status in society.
Cameras flashed, reporters crowded, and rumors spread quickly.
The last heir of the Devereux family had risen from the ashes.
Leo remained close to her, his keen eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of danger.
Vincent smiled beside them, clearly relishing the chaos. "Nothing like making enemies uneasy, right?"
Ariella grinned. "It's not unease. It's fear."
She wasn't just reclaiming what was taken.
She was daring anyone who thought they could still control her.
And someone took the bait.
A Name from the Past
The next day, Carter intercepted a message.
A coded signal traced back to a secure site overseas.
Ariella's heart raced as she read the decoded file.
The sender?
Alexander LaVey.
Leo muttered a curse. "I thought he was gone."
Ariella clenched her jaw. "Apparently not."
Alexander LaVey had been one of the oldest members of the Order, rumored to have disappeared years ago when the Devereux empire fell.
And now, he was reaching out.
Carter leaned in, his tone steady but serious. "We can't be sure this isn't a trap."
Vincent grinned. "Of course it's a trap. That's what makes it exciting."
Ariella took a deep breath. "I don't care if it's a trap."
She turned to Leo.
"I need to see this through."
Leo's jaw tightened, but he agreed. "Then we'll do it together."
The private jet landed quietly at a remote airstrip outside Rome.
Leo, Carter, and Vincent moved like shadows toward the meeting place—an old cathedral in the city center.
Ariella entered first, her heartbeat steady and controlled.
Then she spotted him.
Alexander LaVey sat at the head of a long wooden table, an older man with sharp, calculating eyes.
He smiled. "So, the Devereux girl made it after all."
Ariella stepped forward slowly. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."
LaVey laughed softly. "Oh, we tried. But you turned out to be more... resilient than we thought."
Leo tightened his grip on his gun.
Carter positioned himself by the exit, ready to act at any moment.
Vincent watched with a grin, enjoying the scene like it was his favorite show.
Ariella folded her arms. "Why did you call for me?"
LaVey's face became serious. "Because the Order is still alive."
Ariella held her breath.
LaVey leaned closer. "You took down one branch, but there are more. They know who you are now. They know about your child. And they will come for you."
Leo stepped protectively in front of Ariella, radiating fierce determination. "If they come, we'll take them down."
LaVey smiled knowingly. "That's just what I wanted to hear."
Ariella's heart raced.
This wasn't a warning.
It was an invitation.
The battle wasn't finished.
It was only just starting.