SHADOWLESS LOVE

As I emerged from the guest room, the sight of Cassian's grim expression greeted me. A rare crack in his otherwise unshakable facade.

"What happened?" I demanded, my voice cold and edged with impatience.

"Our warehouse in the Arctic was attacked. All 200 guards… dead."

The words hit like the strike of a hammer, but I didn't flinch. The Arctic warehouse wasn't just a storage site—it was an empire's heart. Housing Valentino's uniquely formulated narcotics, it was a fortress protected by secrecy and an impenetrable layer of loyalty. The drugs stored there, tailored for both medicinal and illicit purposes, were the kind of commodities that defined power.

Few knew of its location. Few were trusted. And yet, 200 men were dead, and the fortress had fallen.

"Alexander." His name fell from my lips, venomous and sharp. Only someone of his caliber could orchestrate such a strike.

"I don't think it's wise for you to visit the site, Aeron," Cassian interrupted, his voice low and steady, though I caught the faintest tremor. "We need to find the traitor first."

I turned to face him, my expression unreadable. He wasn't wrong, but his words carried a weight that made my jaw tighten. Trust was a brittle thing, even among those closest to me.

There were five who knew the Arctic's location: my father, Cassian, Erika—who was dead—Zaviar Leonard, and myself.

"You think Zaviar Leonard is the rat?" Cassian asked, watching me intently.

"Who else?" I replied, though my tone was deliberately ambiguous. "Unless you're hiding something, Cassian. Perhaps you've forgotten the leash I hold." My words were a blade, cutting the air between us.

His face paled, his composure fracturing. "Aeron, I would never—"

"Or," I continued coldly, "Erika has risen from the dead."

His shock was almost laughable, but I had no time to indulge in his relief. "Prepare the cars," I ordered, turning sharply. "We're going to deal with this rat personally."

I strode toward the door, footsteps deliberately loud. Beyond it, I could feel Ivelle Ivanova lingering, her silent observation a shadow pressing against the edge of my mind.

When I opened the door, there she was, standing near the window. Her expression was perfectly neutral, but her eyes gleamed with a sharpness that cut through the air between us. The faintest smile tugged at her lips, polished and practiced, but empty.

"What brings you here again?" she asked, her voice soft, almost too innocent.

Leaning against the doorframe, I let a slow, predatory grin spread across my face. "Care to join me, Princess?"

Her brow furrowed. "Where to?"

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "As mistress of the Valentino family, you should familiarize yourself with our business. We've had… an unfortunate incident."

Her lips parted in surprise, but she caught herself. "What incident?"

"You'll see." I didn't wait for a response, turning and striding away. Cassian's incredulous gaze bore into me as he followed.

"Why her?" he mouthed, his disbelief almost amusing.

I smirked and glanced over my shoulder at Ivelle, who followed with deliberate grace. "Because, dear Cassian, I don't want her father grilling me for putting his precious daughter in harm's way."

In the Car...

Ivelle sat beside me, her confusion evident despite her composed demeanor. Behind us, a convoy of bodyguards trailed like shadows.

"Where are we going, Aeron?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with unease.

I smiled, the kind of smile that made lesser men flinch. "I told you, Princess, you'll find out soon enough."

Her lips parted as if to speak, but she thought better of it, swallowing her words.

"You seem nervous," I teased, my voice dripping with mockery.

She rolled her eyes, a flicker of defiance. "I don't like surprises."

"Then you'll hate this one."

Her eyes narrowed, but I let the silence stretch, leaning back into my seat.

The Ties That Bind...

Cassian Grey. Yohan. Zaviar Leonard. Each one was a piece on my chessboard, bound to me by something deeper than loyalty—something closer to obsession.

Cassian, my shadow, was the closest thing I had to a friend. Brought into my life at the age of four, he'd clung to my father's arms for dear life after being pulled from a world of unimaginable horrors. A boy sold by his own father into hell. My father had saved him, but it was I who shaped him.

His obsession with me wasn't romantic—it was survival. I was his anchor, his purpose. Everything he did was a desperate attempt to protect the life I had given him.

Then there was Yohan. Rescued from the depths of the underworld caste known as The Showmen, he was a boy who had suffered endlessly but burned with a fire I couldn't ignore. His loyalty was born from admiration, but it had grown into something darker—a need to prove himself worthy of the life I'd granted him.

And Zaviar Leonard. The chemist. The orphan whose obsession with me bordered on worship. I had pulled him from the flames of a burning orphanage, risking my life to save his. He had never forgotten it. His gratitude had twisted into something almost dangerous—a fervent, unwavering devotion that made him willing to destroy anyone who threatened me, including himself.

Their loyalty wasn't born from love. It was born from the fact that, without me, they had no purpose, no identity. I was their salvation and their torment, the axis on which their lives revolved.

"Where are we going, Aeron?" Ivelle's voice cut through my thoughts again, her tone sharp and probing.

I turned to her, my smile a thin veneer over the predator lurking beneath. "You'll find out soon enough, Princess."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion evident, but she said nothing.

Ivelle Ivanova. A woman with a mind as sharp as a blade and secrets deeper than the ocean. Perhaps it was time to show her what lurked beneath the surface of my polished exterior.