Aria

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, waking me from restless dreams about Marcus's hands around my throat. I touched my neck carefully, feeling the tender bruises that had formed overnight. They would heal in a day or two thanks to my werewolf healing, but the memory would last much longer.

A soft knock on the door made me jump.

"Come in," I called, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

Leo entered carrying a tray with breakfast. He wore dark jeans and a simple black shirt, looking more casual than I had ever seen him. His hair was still slightly damp from a shower, and I caught myself staring at how the morning light highlighted the silver threads mixed with his dark hair.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, setting the tray on the nightstand.

"Fine," I lied, not wanting to admit I had been awake most of the night thinking about what I overheard.

He studied my face for a moment, and I knew he could see through my lie. But he didn't push.

"Eat," he said simply. "We have work to do today."

The breakfast was simple but perfect. Scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and orange juice. I ate while Leo sat in the chair by the window, scrolling through his phone. The domestic scene felt strange but oddly comfortable.

"I need you to tell me about your father's business partners," Leo said without looking up. "Every detail you can remember."

I set down my fork and thought carefully. "There were three main partners. Mr. Chen, who handled imports from Asia. Mr. Rodriguez, who managed the warehouses. And Mr. Thompson, who dealt with the financial side."

Leo typed notes into his phone as I spoke. "What about their personalities? Did your father trust them?"

"He trusted Mr. Chen completely. They had been friends since college. Mr. Rodriguez was newer, only joined the company two years ago. And Mr. Thompson..." I paused, remembering. "My father never really liked him, but he was good at his job."

"Interesting," Leo murmured. "Tell me more about Thompson."

"He was always pushing for bigger deals, riskier investments. My father had to hold him back several times. They argued about it at dinner once. Thompson wanted to invest in some new shipping route that my father thought was too dangerous."

Leo's eyes sharpened with interest. "When was this?"

"About six months ago. Right before everything started going wrong."

He stood up abruptly. "Get dressed. We're going to my office."

"But I thought you wanted me to stay hidden," I protested.

"Not my corporate office," he clarified. "My home office. It's secure."

Twenty minutes later, I followed Leo through the house to a section I hadn't seen before. Behind a hidden door was a sophisticated office with multiple computer screens and filing cabinets that required fingerprint access.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to a chair beside his desk.

He pulled up files on his computer, and I gasped when I saw surveillance footage of my father's office from six months ago.

"How do you have this?" I asked.

"I have access to many things," Leo said cryptically. "Watch."

The footage showed my father arguing with Thompson. Their voices were muffled, but their body language was clear. Thompson was aggressive, leaning over my father's desk, pointing his finger. My father stood his ground, shaking his head firmly.

Then Thompson said something that made my father's face go pale. He stumbled backward, gripping the edge of his desk.

"What did he say?" I whispered.

Leo enhanced the audio, and Thompson's voice became clear.

"You don't understand, Martinez. This isn't just business anymore. There are people involved who don't take no for an answer. If you don't agree to this deal, they'll find someone who will. And they'll make sure you're not around to interfere."

My blood ran cold. "He threatened my father?"

"It appears so," Leo said grimly. "And look at this."

He pulled up another file showing financial transfers. Money had been moving through Thompson's accounts in patterns that made no sense for a legitimate business. Large sums appearing and disappearing, always just below the threshold that would trigger investigations.

"Thompson was laundering money," I said, understanding dawning.

"Through your father's company," Leo confirmed. "When your father refused to participate in the shipping deal, Thompson needed him out of the way."

"So he framed him," I said, anger building in my chest.

"With help," Leo added. "Thompson isn't smart enough to do this alone."

He pulled up another screen showing a web of connections. Thompson's name was connected to several others, including one that made my heart stop.

Marcus Blackwood.

"No," I breathed. "Marcus was involved?"

Leo's expression was grim. "His family's shipping company would have profited enormously from the deal your father refused. When you rejected Marcus yesterday, you became a liability. Someone who might figure out the truth."

The room spun. Marcus hadn't just rejected me for political power. He had been part of a conspiracy against my family from the beginning.

"We need more evidence," Leo said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Something concrete that will hold up in court."

"What about Thompson?" I asked. "Can't we just confront him?"

"Thompson disappeared three days ago," Leo said. "Right after your father was arrested. He knew the investigation would eventually lead to him."

My heart sank. Without Thompson, how could we prove anything?

Leo must have seen my despair because he reached over and squeezed my hand gently. "We'll find another way. I promise you that."

His touch was warm and reassuring. I found myself holding onto his hand, drawing strength from his presence.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked suddenly. "Really helping me, not just keeping me safe?"

Leo was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was softer than usual.

"Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by people you trust. To have everything taken from you by those who were supposed to protect you."

There was pain in his voice, old wounds that hadn't healed.

"What happened to you?" I asked gently.

He pulled his hand away and turned back to the computer. "That's a story for another time."

Before I could push further, his phone rang. He answered it immediately.

"Yes?" His face darkened as he listened. "When? How many? I understand. Double the security immediately."

He hung up and turned to me, his expression serious.

"What's wrong?" I asked, fear creeping up my spine.

"Someone broke into your apartment last night. They ransacked everything, looking for something."

My stomach dropped. "My mother—"

"Is safe," he assured me quickly. "She was staying with your aunt. But whoever did this left a message."

He showed me a photo on his phone. Written on my bedroom wall in red paint were the words: "Stop digging or she dies."

I stared at the threatening message, my hands trembling.

"They know I'm investigating," Leo said. "Which means we're getting close to something they don't want us to find."

"But how did they know?" I asked.

Leo's expression turned deadly serious. "Because someone close to us is feeding them information."

The implication hit me like cold water. There was a spy in Leo's organization. Someone who knew where I was, what we were doing.

"We can't trust anyone," I whispered.

"No," Leo agreed. "From now on, it's just you and me."

He stood up and moved to the window, checking the grounds outside. His body was tense, ready for danger.

"There's something else," he said without turning around. "Your father called your mother this morning from prison. He said something strange before the guards cut him off."

"What did he say?" I asked, my heart racing.