confrontation

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The next morning, Aiden didn’t wait for a call. He showed up at Lyra’s office unannounced.

The receptionist blinked in surprise. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“No,” he said evenly. “But tell her Aiden Rowe is here. She’ll see me.”

A minute later, he was ushered into a private elevator that led straight to the top floor. Astra Holdings’ headquarters looked more like a luxury fortress than a tech firm—glass, steel, and silence. Too quiet for a company this powerful.

When the doors opened, Lyra was standing by her floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city like she owned it.

Because she did.

“You’re early,” she said, not turning around.

“I couldn’t wait.”

She finally looked over her shoulder. “Is that a good thing or a bad one?”

He stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him. “Depends on how honest you’re planning to be with me.”

Something in her eyes shifted—but only for a second. “Aiden, what’s going on?”

“I got a message last night. No name, just a warning. About you.”

Her mask didn’t crack. “People talk. I’m a powerful woman. It comes with enemies.”

He nodded slowly, studying her. “Then maybe you can explain why your company is linked to a smuggling front that disappeared from the face of the earth two years ago.”

That landed.

Lyra’s lips parted just slightly, as if to speak, but no words came out.

“I didn’t come here to accuse you,” he said, softer now. “I just want the truth. Who are you really, Lyra?”

Silence.

Then she stepped toward him, slowly, deliberately, heels clicking against marble like the ticking of a countdown clock. “You want the truth?”

“I think I deserve it.”

She stopped inches from him, her voice low, controlled. “The truth is… I built everything I have from nothing. I survived things you can’t imagine. And I don’t owe anyone explanations for how I protect what’s mine.”

He frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re going to get.”

Aiden’s jaw tightened. “So what are we doing here? You say you care, you say you missed me—but you won’t even tell me who I’m falling for.”

Her eyes softened—just a flicker—and she reached up, touching his face gently.

“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered. “But if you dig too deep, Aiden… you won’t like what you find.”

He held her gaze, torn between the girl he remembered and the woman in front of him now.

“I already don’t.”

The words hung between them like smoke—dense, bitter, and lingering.

The office was silent after Aiden left—too silent.

Lyra stood motionless, her fingers still tingling from where she’d touched his face. The cold he left in his wake felt deeper than any bullet wound she’d ever taken. She let out a shaky breath and turned back to the window, but the view no longer offered comfort.

It never really had.

Her lieutenant, Cass, entered quietly a few minutes later. “He’s gone?”

Lyra didn’t answer right away.

Cass approached, hands clasped behind her back, watching her boss with a rare flash of sympathy. “We can deal with him. If he becomes a threat—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Lyra said, voice razor-sharp.

Cass nodded, backing off.

Lyra walked to the bar in the corner of her office and poured herself a drink—not wine, not tonight. Something stronger. Something that burned. She took a long sip, then another, her perfectly painted nails tapping against the glass.

“He was supposed to be the only part of me that stayed untouched,” she whispered, more to herself than to Cass.

“You’ve kept this hidden for a decade. He’s just a man,” Cass said quietly.

Lyra’s laugh was hollow. “He’s not just a man. He’s Aiden. He’s the one thing I wanted before the empire. Before the blood. Before I became someone people feared.”

Cass didn’t respond. She knew there were some wounds even a mafia queen couldn’t heal with vengeance.

Lyra walked to the mirror across the room and stared at her reflection. Perfect makeup. Perfect poise. The face of power. Of control.

But the woman staring back at her didn’t look invincible. She looked... haunted.

“I should’ve never let him back in,” she said.

“But you did.”

“I know.”

Cass stepped forward. “If he digs deeper, he’ll become a liability. To you. To the business.”

Lyra didn’t blink.

“I know,” she said again—this time colder.

And just like that, the softness vanished. She took another sip, then set the glass down with finality.

“Keep an eye on him. No one touches him but me.”

“And if he finds the truth?”