18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Aria

T he moonlight filters through the curtains, casting pale streaks across the room. It’s the middle of the night, and sleep feels like a distant, unreachable dream. I shift under the covers for what feels like the hundredth time, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of Elias and the danger he’s in.

Outside, the faint sounds of the guards’ footsteps punctuate the silence, their search rotations providing little comfort. Despite their efforts, anxiety gnaws at me. Elias is out there somewhere, and every second that passes feels like a countdown to something worse.

I grab my phone from the bedside table, scrolling mindlessly before I land on the one name I’ve been avoiding for months: Dad. Vittorio.

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen. I hate this. I hate that I’m even considering reaching out to him. But I have no choice. I swallow my pride and type the message.

We need to talk. It’s important.

I hit send before I can stop myself, the knot in my stomach tightening with each passing second. Minutes crawl by until my phone buzzes with his reply.

9 a.m. Café étoile. Don’t be late.

Café étoile. The name alone sends a shiver down my spine. It’s a small, secluded café hours from here—far enough to ensure privacy. Far enough to make me uneasy.

I glance at the clock. 5:15 a.m. It’s too early to leave, but waiting feels impossible. If I stay here, I’ll overthink every detail, every possibility. I creep through the darkened halls, my bare feet silent on the cold floors until I reach the garage. The place is huge, filled with sleek black SUVs and expensive cars, the kind that scream power and control. It’s almost too easy.

My eyes dart around, making sure no one’s watching. I pick one of the smaller cars—a compact, black sedan that looks fast but not flashy. The driver’s door is unlocked. Amateurs.

Sliding in, I search the glove compartment and nearly gasp when I find the keys sitting there.

The drive is long, the dark roads stretching endlessly ahead of me as I fight to keep my nerves in check. By the time I arrive at the café, the first rays of sunlight are just peeking over the horizon.

The place looks just as I remember it: quaint and private, with ivy crawling up the stone walls and a chipped wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. My stomach churns as I park and step out, the cool morning air biting at my skin.

Inside, the air smells faintly of coffee and freshly baked bread. It should be comforting, but it only amplifies my unease. I take a seat in a corner booth, ordering a coffee I don’t touch, and wait.

At exactly 9 a.m., the bell above the door chimes, and my heart stops.

Dad walks in, his presence commanding as always. He’s dressed impeccably, his tailored suit sharp and pristine. He looks the same—smooth, polished, and charming. But as he strides toward me, something about him feels wrong. His eyes, once warm and familiar, are now cold and calculating.

“Sweetheart,” he greets smoothly, sliding into the seat across from me. His voice is honeyed, but it drips with something darker. “It’s been too long.”

I clench my jaw, my hands tightening around the edge of the table. “Cut the crap, Vittorio.”

He raises an eyebrow at my tone, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “Temper, temper, Aria. Is that any way to greet your father?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” I snap, leaning forward.

His smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes now. He leans back casually, draping an arm over the booth as if he owns the place. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re starting to sound ungrateful. After everything I’ve done for you…”

“Done for me?” I spit the words like venom. “You mean the lies? The manipulation? The threats? You’ve done nothing but ruin lives.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You always did have a fiery streak. But let me remind you of something, my dear.” His voice drops, cold and menacing. “You will behave yourself. Do you understand me?”

The sharpness of his words sends a chill down my spine. I grit my teeth, my defiance faltering under his piercing gaze. Slowly, I nod, hating the way his smirk widens in triumph.

“Good girl,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of the coffee the waiter just set down. “Now, let’s talk.”

Vittorio leans back in his seat, his cold smile sending ice down my spine. I try to hold my ground, to steel myself, but his calculating eyes strip away every ounce of my confidence.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” he says, stirring his coffee leisurely, as though the weight of this conversation means nothing to him. “I’ve been... patient with you, Aria. Too patient, some might say.”

I scoff, crossing my arms. “Patient? Is that what you call everything you’ve done?”

He raises a hand, silencing me with a single gesture. “Temper, sweetheart. Behave.” His voice is smooth but laced with steel, the kind that doesn’t tolerate disobedience.

Every instinct screams at me to lash out, but I clamp my mouth shut. For now.

“Good,” he murmurs, smirking like he’s already won. “I know you’re angry, Aria. I understand your defiance—it’s... endearing, in a way. But you’ve been reckless. And now you’ve forced my hand.”

I lean forward, narrowing my eyes. “Get to the point, Vittorio.”

He chuckles softly, his fingers tapping the edge of his cup. “You’re coming home.”

The words hit me like a slap, and I blink, stunned. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his tone even. “You’ve played house long enough. Running around with that pack of mutts—pretending to be one of them—it’s embarrassing.”

I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turn white. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Oh, you are,” he says calmly, his eyes locking onto mine. “You see, Aria, I’ve been lenient because you’re my daughter. But your... situation—” he spits the word“—has forced me to act. That bastard child of yours has become a liability.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Elias like that!” I snap, my voice shaking with rage.

Vittorio doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans forward, his expression hardening. “I’ll speak however I like. He’s not just your child, Aria—he’s mine to deal with as I see fit. And you will return home so I can decide his fate.”

The room tilts, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. “You’re insane if you think I’d ever let you anywhere near my son.”

He tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “And how exactly do you plan to stop me? You’re outnumbered, outmaneuvered. Do you think your precious Bane can protect you?”

“Bane will kill you if you try to touch Elias,” I hiss.

Vittorio’s lips curl into a predatory grin. “Ah, yes. Your Alpha knight in shining armor. I wonder how he’ll feel when he realizes you’ve put everyone he cares about in jeopardy.”

My stomach churns. “What are you talking about?”

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, savoring the moment before responding. “You really think you’ve kept your little secrets safe? That no one in your precious pack has been... whispering in my ear?”

The blood drains from my face. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” His voice is calm, but the triumph in his eyes is unmistakable. “You should have been more careful, sweetheart. Loyalty isn’t as unshakable as you think. Someone close to you has been very... helpful.”

My heart drops like a stone, my mind racing as his words sink in. Someone in the pack. Someone who knows me.

“You’re bluffing,” I manage to say, but my voice wavers.

“Believe what you like,” he says with a shrug. “But I wouldn’t wait too long to figure it out. After all, trust is a fragile thing, isn’t it?”

I stare at him, my chest tightening with disbelief and dread. Could it be true? Could someone in the pack—someone I trusted—be working with him?

Vittorio rises from his seat, straightening his jacket as though this entire conversation has been nothing more than a business meeting. “You have until tomorrow to make your decision, Aria. Come home willingly, or I’ll come for you. And trust me, you won’t like my methods.”

He leans down, his cold smile inches from my face. “Oh, and give my regards to Bane.”

I bite my lip anxiously and hurriedly type a text. I'm about to do something stupid.

"Dad, wait.” I call after him, my voice breaking.