Lucian Vale had killed for less.

A look. A whisper. A wrong place, wrong time situation. It didn't take much to sign your death warrant in his world.

Richard Sinclair had earned his a long time ago.

Lucian had been watching him för weeks. The man was predictable-same security detail, same meetings, same glass of whiskey at exactly eight-thirty every night. He was the kind of arrogant bastard who thought his money made him untouchable. The kind that never saw death coming until it had its hands wrapped around his throat.

Lucian had planned a clean kill. A single bullet through the skull. Silent. Efficient.

Then he saw her.

And suddenly, killing Richard wasn't enough.

Aurora Sinclair didn't break.

Lucian had been watching the house för three days when he saw it happen for the first time. The slap came fast, sharp enough to jerk her head to the side. But she didn't cry. Didn't stumble. She just stood there, absorbing the pain like it was something she was used to. Like it was expected.

She was beautiful, but not in the way the rich molded their daughters to be. There was something raw about her beauty untamed, like a wild thing forced into a golden cage. Long, dark hair that curled slightly at the ends. Pale skin that had bruises just barely hidden beneath silk sleeves. Eyes so sharp they could cut glass.

Even from a distance, Lucian could see the quiet fury in them.

The defiance she didn't dare speak aloud.

Richard struck her again. This time, she blinked but remained silent.

Lucian tightened his grip on the rifle.The logical part of his brain told him to look away. To focus. His job was Richard, not the girl.

But logic had never been his strongest quality.

That night, Lucian followed her.

Not for the job. Not because he had to. But because he wanted to.

He told himself it was curiosity. That he just wanted to understand what kind of daughter a man like Richard Sinclair had raised.

It was a lie.

He watched as she left her house and walked down the empty streets, shoulders tense, bands curled into fists. She didn't walk like a woman who felt safe. She walked like someone who knew the world was hunting her and had no choice but to keep moving anyway.

He had the urge to see what she'd do if she knew she was being watched. If she'd run. If she'd fight.

But he already knew the answer.

Aurora Sinclair didn't run.

She went to a small café just off the main road. Ordered a cup of tea. Sat by the window, staring out into the dark like it whispered secrets only she could bear.

Lucian leaned against a lamppost across the street, lighting a cigarette he didn't intend to smoke. He just watched.

Her fingers trembled when she brought the cup to her lips. Just a little. Barely noticeable.

There.

That was what Richard Sinclair never saw. He saw her spine of steel, ber unbreakable silence. He didn't see this-the parts of her that werė cracking beneath the surface.

Lucian exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his face.

He wanted to know how far she could bend before she snapped.

And more than that he wanted to be the one to break her.

Aurora left the café thirty minutes later.

She didn't go home right away.

Instead, she walked. Past the familiar roads. Past the places she probably wished she could escape to. Lucian followed at a distance, slipping into the shadows each time she glanced Över her shoulder.

She knew she wasn't alone.

Good.

She wasn't stupid.

Even better.

She picked up her pace, turning into an alleyway that led to the back streets. Lucian could have laughed. Wrong move, little girl. The main road was safer. Möre eyes. More people. But she didn't trust them, did she?

Smart.

But not smart enough.

Lucian took a shortcut, stepping into her path just as she turned the corner.

She barely stopped in time to avoid colliding with him.

Her gasp was soft, barely audible, but her reaction was instant-she took a step back, eyes flickering with something between fear and fury.

Lucian tilted his head, studying her up close for the first time.

She was even more beautiful in person.

"Lost?" His voice was low, rough from disuse.

Aurora's eyes narrowed. "No."

She had a good poker face. If Lucian hadn't been watching her all night, he wouldn't have noticed the way her fingers twitched. The way she shifted her weight, like she was preparing to run.

Interesting.

He took a slow step forward, just to see what she'd do.

She didn't retreat.

Even more interesting.

She swallowed, her jaw tightening like she was biting back words she wanted to say.

Lucian smirked. "You sure?"

She exhaled sharply, tilting her chin up. "Are you in my way for a reason, or do you just enjoy harassing women in dark alleys?"

Bold.

Lucian chuckled, rolling his cigarette between his fingers before flicking it aside. "Depends on the woman."

Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to snap back, but then something shifted in her eyes. A realization.

A flicker of recognition.

Lucian saw it the moment it bit her.

She'd seen kim before.

She just didn't know where.

He could see the thoughts racing through her head, the quiet war between her gut instinct and the polite civility she'd probably been trained to use.

She had no idea who he was.

But she knew what he was.

Dangerous.

He took one last step, closing the space between them. Not touching, but close enough to watch her pulse quicken.

Close enough to smell her.

"You should go home, Aurora."

She stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

Lucian smiled. "Go home."

A beat of silence.

Her jaw clenched. Then she stepped around him, her pace measured, controlled, but he didn't miss the way her breath quickened as she put distance between them.

He let her go.

For now.

He exhaled slowly, watching her disappear down the street, his fingers twitching with the urge to pull her back.

He hadn't planned on changing the Game. Hadn't planned on shifting his focus.

But now, it wasn't just about killing Richard Sinclair.

It was about taking what belonged to bim.

And Lucian Vale always took what he wanted.