“Then enjoy the explosion.” —A

The Crimson Syndicate’s annual Winter gala was not an invitation–it was a command. 

It was where alliances were formed, enemies were crushed with smiles, and blood oaths were sealed over champagne flutes. Missing it was an insult. Showing up unprepared was suicide. 

And Aria had no intention of being either. 

It was this annual gala that sealed her fate three years ago when her adopted father introduced Dominic to her, as her fiancée. 

But that didn't mean she didn't plan to burn the room down–metaphorically….or otherwise. 

She stepped out of the sleek black town car in a floor-length scarlet dress. It clung to her like it had been poured into her skin. A slit ran high up the dress, showing an amount of generous thick thighs. Her hair was swept back, her expression unreadable. 

Gasps followed her as she moved through the entrance hall of the Rothschild Hotel, where the gala was being hosted. Men turned, women stared, everyone whispered. 

Wondering who she was, nobody ever knew her as Dominic’s wife so she used that to her advantage. 

Dominic was already inside, flanked by Sienna–who wore white like a mockery of innocence. 

He stiffened when he saw Aria enter. His eyes flicked over slowly. Greed. Regret. Guilt. They all padded through his expression like waves. But great anger started rolling off him in waves when he remembered his shipment that was hijacked just few night before. He knew she was the one behind it, she knew everything those meetings. 

Sienna followed his gaze and choked on her laughter. 

“You didn't tell me she'd be here.” She hissed.

“She wasn't supposed to be,” Dominic muttered, jaw tight. “She must have used her old access.”

“You said her name was erased.”

“I said I was handling it.”

Across the room, Aria walked directly to the bar and ordered a glass of water. She hadn't touched alcohol since that the doctor announced that she lost her baby. Her body still ached–her soul even more–but pain was fuel now. 

Damon hadn't come. 

At least, not that she could see. 

She hoped he was watching. 

As the ballroom filled, Dominic eventually approached her. The crowd took notice immediately. Whispers rose like fog. 

“You're not welcome here,” he said under his breath. 

She didn't even blink. 

“You had no problem showing up at my funeral in a tux. Think of this as a resurrection.”

“What did you mean when you said something about my baby.” 

Aria made sure not to let anything show on her face. 

“Are you pregnant?” He asked her and she hissed at him. 

“It's none of your fucking business.”

“And I know you’re the one behind my shipment going missing.” He bit out. 

“And what are you going to do about it?” 

Dominic's jaw ticked. “You think you're making a point, Aria, but all you're doing is making noise.”

“I came to give you one last chance,”she said softly. “Sign the divorce papers. Officially. Publicly. When I say that, I mean so the council member know that we are done for good.” 

Be laughed coldly. “You don't get to make demands.”

She sipped her water. 

“Then enjoy the explosion.” 

“What explo–”

The lights flickered. The music stuttered.

A screen lit up above the stage. 

And suddenly, footage rolled. 

Dominic. Sienna. The villa bedroom. Their voices. Their laughter. Crystal clear. The same video that was in that USB drive. 

It was that night. The night she disappeared. 

The entire room gasped.

Sienna screamed. 

“TURN IT OFF.” 

Dominic lunged toward the tech crew. “Shut it down. Now!”

The screen went black, but the damage was already done. 

She had rendered him useless in front of the council and his family.

Council members stood from their seats. Rivals smiled behind raised glasses. 

Dominic turned around–Aria was gone. 

Aria moved fast, cutting through the side corridor of the ballroom. Her breath was steady. Her mind, cold.

A shadow darted behind her. 

She didn't flinch. 

The bathroom door creaked open behind her–just as she expected. 

“Playing ghost again, Sienna?” Aria asked without turning. 

“It's getting old “

The door slammed shut. 

Sienna stormed forward. 

“You bitch! You think just because you crawled back from the grave with a new dress and a bodyguard, you're untouchable?”

Aria turned slowly, her face unreadable.

“I'm not untouchable,” she said softly. “I'm just not afraid anymore.”

Sienna's eyes burned. “You think anyone in this room respects you? They're laughing at you. Whispers behind every champagne flute….”

“Don't forget they don't know I'm married to your boyfriend. And, you were the one they watched get exposed like a cheap whore on a hotel screen. You think they didn't notice the way Dominic didn't even defend you?”

Sienna's face flushed red. “I will kill you.”

“Why, sister? Did I push a nerve too hard? Go ahead and kill me, but before you try, remember this…”

She pulled out a tiny device from her clutch–a recording mic, blinking red. 

“It's been live since I walked in.” Sienna paled. 

“Everything you just said?” Aria smiled coldly. 

“Already transmitted to this  archive.”

“You're buffing.” 

She didn't reply and only stepped in so close their foreheads nearly touched. 

“You should've killed me when you had the chance. Now, I'm not just alive, Sienna–im empowered. And when I take everything from Dominic, you're next. Not because of the betrayal. Not because you stole my life. But because…”

Aria leaned in, voice venomous. 

“You're weak.” She turned, heels clicking, and opened the bathroom door. 

Sienna stood frozen. 

Before leaving, Aria glanced over her shoulder. 

“Clean yourself up, little sister. You're bleeding shame and cheapness all over the floor.”