Ayla's body ached with silence. The room hadn't changed, but something within her had. This wasn't just captivity anymore—this was war. A war built on shadows, old betrayals, and bloodlines she never asked to inherit.
Cassian had left her alone for hours. Maybe to test her mind, maybe to study her fear. But Ayla was no longer that frightened girl who once ran from one cartel lord into the arms of another. She was her mother's daughter. And Elara had survived worse.
A small clicking noise made her flinch—the door unlocking again.
Cassian stepped in with a tray of food. "Eat."
Ayla stared at him, unmoving.
"You'll need your strength," he added, placing the tray on a stool. "We'll be taking a trip soon. Somewhere your father will find very meaningful."
She narrowed her eyes. "You mean Viper?"
"No," Cassian said calmly. "I mean Leon. The man foolish enough to believe he ever stood a chance."
Ayla's stomach sank. He knew about Leon?
"You've been watching us," she muttered.
He gave her a small smile. "Everything."
Meanwhile, back in Viper's estate, fury was no longer enough to contain him. He stood at the edge of the training arena, sweat dripping from his bare chest, fists bloodied from punching the reinforced wall.
"She's my daughter," he growled to himself.
Nico and another enforcer stood nearby, watching the unraveling of a man known to be untouchable.
Leon walked in just then—unannounced, unreadable. The stare he and Viper exchanged could've set the air on fire.
"You found him?" Viper asked without turning.
Leon nodded slowly. "Cassian Graves. Old ghost. Deep enemy."
"And she's with him."
"Not for long," Leon said, his voice cold. "He's using her. To punish you. To reach me."
They stood in silence for a moment, bound by the same fury.
"She's still my daughter," Viper murmured.
Leon looked him in the eye. "She's more than that. She's all I have."
Neither man said it aloud, but they both knew—Cassian's next move would shake their world.
And Ayla… she was at the center of it all.