Chapter 4:
Elena's POV
The weight of power wasn't always measured in blood. Not always.
Sometimes, it was measured in choices—the ones you made, the ones you avoided, and the ones that came back to haunt you when the night was quiet and the walls whispered your name. Tonight, those whispers were louder than usual.
I sat in my study, swirling a drink in one hand, watching the firelight flicker across the room. The Moretti estate had always been a fortress, but tonight, it felt like a prison, its walls closing in.
Aiden had passed his first test. He had walked into Petrov's den, left his mark, and returned alive. He had played his role beautifully, and yet... I wasn't sure whether I had just gained a weapon or unleashed a storm.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I already knew who it was.
"Come in," I said.
Aiden stepped inside, his presence sharp as ever. He moved with a quiet kind of danger, the kind that didn't need to be announced. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, revealing traces of a fight he hadn't bothered to explain. I set my drink down. "Did Petrov give you trouble?" "Not enough to be interesting," he said.
I leaned back in my chair, studying him. "That remains to be seen."
His mouth twitched, but he didn't smile. "So, what now? Or was I only ever a pawn in your little game?" "You overestimate your importance," I said smoothly.
The words were calculated, meant to remind him where he stood. But the way his jaw clenched told me he didn't like being underestimated. Good...
Aiden thrives under pressure.
I picked up a small folder from my desk and slid it toward him. "There's something else I need you to do."
He hesitated before taking it. When he flipped it open, his expression barely changed, but I saw the way his fingers tightened slightly against the paper.
"A name," he muttered. "That's all?" "That's all," I said.
The folder contained nothing but a single name. Lorenzo Vitale.
Aiden looked at me. "You want him dead?"
"Not yet," I said. "I want him broken first."
Lorenzo was a rat, a man who thought he could betray the Morettis and walk away unscathed. He had been feeding information to our enemies, undermining our power from the inside.
Aiden leaned against my desk, tilting his head slightly. "And if I decide I don't like playing your executioner?"
I smiled, slow and sharp. "Then you're free to walk out of here." His eyes flicked to the firelight, thoughtful. "You already know I won't."
A slow breath left his lips, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter. "And if I go after him… what happens when I start liking the power you're giving me?"
I pushed my drink toward him. "Then I suppose we'll both find out what kind of man you really are."
Aiden stared at me for a moment before picking up the glass and taking a slow sip.
It was the first time he had accepted a drink from me. A small thing, but in our world, small things meant everything.
By the time Aiden left, I was already preparing for the next move.
The moment Lorenzo learned we were onto him, he'd run. He was a survivor, the kind of man who always had a back door waiting. If I wanted him trapped, I needed to be ahead of him.
I picked up my phone and dialed.
"Elias," I said when the call connected. "I need eyes on Lorenzo. If he so much as breathes in the wrong direction, I want to know."
"Understood." I hung up.
The pieces were absolutely moving.
And somewhere in the middle of it, Aiden was becoming something dangerous.
I just wasn't sure whether he was my weapon or my undoing.
Lorenzo was predictable. That was his weakness. It didn't take long for Aiden to track him down.
The warehouse on the east side of Blackridge was barely standing—a relic from a time when this city had been built on crime and desperation.
Aiden stepped inside, the scent of oil and rust thick in the air. The dim light cast shadows along the concrete floor, stretching toward the old machinery in the corner. A figure stood at the center, back turned, cigarette smoke curling in lazy swirls above him. Lorenzo.
Aiden took his time walking forward, his steps echoing in the silence.
Lorenzo must have sensed him because he exhaled slowly, tapping ash onto the ground.
"I was wondering when you'd come," Lorenzo said, his voice even. Aiden tilted his head. "Then you should have ran faster."
Lorenzo turned, eyes flicking to the gun at Aiden's side. But he didn't look afraid.
That was the problem with men like him. They thought they were untouchable—until they weren't.
"I can help you," Lorenzo said. "More than Elena ever could." Aiden let out a short, humorless laugh. "And why would I need help?" "Because she doesn't trust you. She never will." Lorenzo took a step closer, voice dropping. "But me? I see you for what you are. You're not Moretti. You don't belong in her world." Aiden didn't answer.
Lorenzo saw an opening and pressed harder. "She's using you. I can give you more. Money, power, a way out"
Aiden moved faster than Lorenzo expected, gripping the front of his shirt and slamming him into the rusted machinery behind him.
The cigarette fell from Lorenzo's lips, crushed beneath Aiden's boot. "You don't have anything I want," Aiden said, voice low.
Lorenzo gasped, struggling, but Aiden held him firm, then, just as suddenly, he let go.
Lorenzo stumbled, coughing, rubbing on his throat. He looked up with a mixture of fear and calculation. Aiden stepped back, brushing imaginary dust from his knuckles. "I'm not here to kill you." Lorenzo blinked. "You're not?"
"No," Aiden said. "But I am here to make sure you suffer."
By the time Aiden returned to the estate, dawn was breaking over the city.
I was waiting.
He stepped inside my office without hesitation, dropping a small object on my desk. A flash drive.
I picked it up, meeting his gaze. "What's on it?"
"Everything Lorenzo knew. Bank records, transactions, names." Aiden tilted his head. "It's enough to tear down some of your enemies… and some of your allies."
I studied him. "And Lorenzo?" "He's still breathing."
I leaned back. "How generous of you."
Aiden smirked. "Call it a professional courtesy." I flicked the flash drive between my fingers. "And do you expect a reward?"
"I expect a seat at the table," he said. "A real one."
The air between us shifted, charged with something neither of us acknowledged.
I had been testing Aiden, pushing him to see where he would break.
Tonight, he hadn't broken; he had evolved.
I smiled slowly, leaning forward. "Then let's see what you can really do."