The city pulsed with life, its neon veins flickering in the rain, masking the crime that thrived beneath its surface.
Detective Aria Voss crouched on the rooftop of a condemned building, her sharp green eyes locked onto the warehouse below. The target was within reach. Matteo De Luca, one of the most ruthless enforcers in the city's underworld, was conducting an illegal arms deal. He was more than just another criminal—he was a direct link to The Phantom, the faceless mastermind who had evaded capture for years.
Her fingers tightened around the grip of her gun. Tonight, she would get closer to him.
"Detective Voss, we're in position. Orders?" a voice crackled through her earpiece.
She didn't blink. One mistake, one miscalculation, and this entire operation would be compromised.
"Hold," she ordered, her voice steady. "We move on my signal."
Below, figures shifted in the dim glow of flickering streetlights. The tension in the air was suffocating—men on both sides of the deal kept their hands on their weapons, wary of betrayal. Aria had seen this kind of exchange countless times.
But this wasn't just about the weapons.
This was about him.
For years, The Phantom had ruled this city like a ghost. His name was spoken in fear, his power extending into every level of crime and corruption. No one knew his face. No one knew his real name. But Aria had spent years unraveling his empire, determined to drag him into the light.
She raised her hand, ready to give the signal—
And then the world exploded.
Killian Dante Watched From the Shadows.
The explosion ripped through the warehouse with terrifying precision, fire blooming against the night sky. It was quick, efficient—erasing all evidence before it could be traced.
Just as he had planned.
From his vantage point, Killian Dante, the man the city feared as The Phantom, observed the chaos below. The blast had scattered the surviving criminals like rats, their shouts drowned out by the wail of approaching sirens. But his focus wasn't on them.
It was on her.
Aria had hit the ground instinctively, rolling behind cover before the second shockwave could hit. Smoke curled around her, her gun drawn, her expression sharp with determination rather than fear. She never hesitated, never faltered.
She was magnificent.
Killian's fingers curled into fists at his sides. He had spent years keeping his distance, orchestrating her every move without her knowing. Every case she had solved, every victory she thought she had claimed—it had all been his design. He had molded her into the perfect detective.
But lately, the game had shifted.
Watching her from a distance was no longer enough. He wanted to touch her.
Aria turned sharply, scanning the rooftops, her body tense.
She could feel him.
A slow smirk tugged at Killian's lips. She was getting closer.
But not close enough.
Not yet.
Aria Knew This Wasn't Just Another Attack.
Smoke burned her lungs as she pressed a hand to her earpiece.
"Status report! Anyone down?"
"Negative, but we lost visual!" her partner shouted back. "Jesus Christ, Voss, what the hell just happened?"
Aria didn't answer.
The timing had been too perfect. The explosion had wiped out the entire operation, leaving nothing behind—not a single witness, not a single piece of evidence.
This wasn't an accident. This was a message.
A chill ran down her spine.
The Phantom had been here.
For years, she had studied his methods. His crimes were never sloppy, never reckless. He was always a step ahead. Tonight had his signature all over it.
Which meant… he had been watching her.
Her grip on her gun tightened. She turned, scanning the rooftops, searching for something—anything—that might confirm what she already knew.
Nothing.
But the feeling didn't fade.
Somewhere in the darkness, he was there.
And for the first time, a question crept into her mind.
Had she been hunting The Phantom?
Or had he been hunting her?
Killian Smiled As He Disappeared into the Night.
She was starting to understand.
He watched her standing in the wreckage, rain dripping from her dark auburn hair, her stance rigid with the realization that she was no longer just chasing shadows.
Tonight, he had let her feel him.
Just a taste. Just enough to let the paranoia sink in.
She didn't know it yet, but she was already his.
And soon, she would have no choice but to see the truth.
This was only the beginning.