---
Aiden walked her to the car, still smiling, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath Lyra’s calm exterior.
“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asked, lingering at the open door.
She leaned in and kissed him—slow, deliberate, like it was both a promise and a goodbye. “I’d like that.”
Then she slid into the backseat and the door shut with a soft click. The moment it did, the smile vanished.
“Drive,” she ordered. Her voice was sharp now—steel wrapped in silk.
The driver didn’t need a second prompt. As the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, Lyra reached into the side panel of the car, pulling out a sleek black case. Inside: twin pistols, matte black, custom-engraved. She strapped one to her thigh and slid the other under her jacket.
“Status,” she said into her earpiece.
“They’re trying to intercept the dock shipment—three cars, maybe ten men. We’ve locked down the perimeter, but there’s movement in the shadows.”
“Casualties?”
“Two of ours. One’s not going to make it.”
Lyra’s jaw clenched. “Send word to his family. Triple compensation. I want this cleaned up fast and loud.”
The car pulled up to a warehouse near the docks, hidden behind stacks of shipping containers. Her lieutenant, a tall woman in tactical black, met her at the gate.
“We tried to wait for your order, Queen.”
“You did right,” Lyra said, stepping out. “Now I’ll give it.”
With fluid precision, she slipped through the maze of crates and shadows, her heels traded for combat boots the moment she entered the war zone. Gunfire cracked in the distance—short bursts. Controlled. Her team was well-trained.
Lyra flanked left, catching one of the intruders reloading behind a crate. One clean shot dropped him. No hesitation.
Within minutes, the skirmish was over. Her men were dragging the bodies to be disposed of, erasing every trace. Just as she holstered her weapon, a younger soldier approached.
“Ma’am… there was a message left behind.”
He handed her a scrap of paper, bloodstained and folded.
“He doesn’t know who you are. But we do. Tick, tock.”
Lyra stared at the note, her heart a glacier beneath her ribs.
Someone was watching her. Watching Aiden.
She tore the note in half and burned it on the spot.
Then she turned to her lieutenant. “Clean everything. No leaks.”
“And Aiden?” the woman asked cautiously.
Lyra’s expression softened—but only for a second.
“He stays out of this. No matter what.”
---
Aiden sat at the edge of his bed, scrolling through the photos he’d taken that night. The rooftop lights, their wine glasses clinking, Lyra laughing—God, it was surreal seeing her again. And even more surreal how fast everything had fallen back into place.
But something felt... off.
He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. There were little things that didn't sit right. The armed driver. The way she deflected questions about her company. The subtle way her eyes kept scanning the room, like she was always calculating exits.
He told himself it was just her being successful, powerful, guarded. Maybe she’d been burned. Hell, he had left her without a word. Of course she’d have walls now.
Still...
He reached for his laptop, curiosity getting the better of him. A quick search for “Lyra Castell” brought up the usual headlines: CEO of Astra Holdings, Tech Powerhouse Expands to Europe, One of the Country’s Top Business Minds Under 30. All pristine. All too pristine.
He dug deeper—business forums, finance gossip boards, old news archives. And that’s when he found something odd.
A shell company connected to Astra Holdings had been flagged in an old investigation. No charges, but linked—however loosely—to a smuggling ring that vanished overnight. All records scrubbed, no names. Just... gone.
He stared at the screen. “That can’t be her... right?”
But the itch in the back of his mind wouldn’t go away.
He leaned back again, sighing. “What are you into, Lyra?”
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
“You had a nice dinner. Be careful who you fall in love with.”
Aiden’s blood ran cold.
He re-read the message. No name. No hint.
Just a warning.
And suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if he was the one chasing answers... or being watched himself.
--
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