BLOOD IN SILK

The mirror in front of Alina shimmered with the reflection of a girl she didn't recognize anymore.

A girl dressed in crimson silk, hair twisted into obedient waves, eyes rimmed with kohl—but beneath it all, rebellion burned quietly. Tonight, she was supposed to smile, clink glasses, and give her hand to Adrian Marek—the son of a rival syndicate leader, her father's ticket to a stronger political empire.

But she had other plans.

Tucked into the lining of her dress was a thin flash drive. On it: bank records, shipment ledgers, offshore accounts—all traced back to Senator Marcus Darrow. Her father. The man the public worshipped and she once trusted. He wasn't a savior. He was a monster wearing a mask of patriotism.

She had stolen the files from his study two nights ago, breaking through encrypted folders labeled with military jargon and buried under fake identities. She had spent every hour since making copies, backups, printing a few damning photos just in case something happened to the drive.

Her plan was simple: wait for the toast. Then speak. Speak the truth. On a mic. In a room full of allies and enemies. She would blow it all apart.

A soft knock broke her focus.

"Alina, it's time," said the maid, using the alias Alina had been given for the night. No one outside knew who she really was—not even her fiancé. Her father insisted on secrecy until the alliance was sealed.

Alina stood, her knees only slightly shaking. "Coming," she murmured, sliding the flash drive into her clutch.

As she stepped into the hallway, her heart started to hammer. Not with fear. With conviction.

But conviction wasn't enough.

---

The ballroom shimmered with glass chandeliers and veiled threats. Everyone smiled with their teeth. Her father stood tall at the head of the room, hand on Adrian's shoulder. He looked proud. Fake. Cruel.

Alina took a shaky breath as she reached the top of the staircase, clutch tight in hand.

She descended one step.

Then another.

Then—

Darkness.

A sudden blow from behind. A hand over her mouth. The world tilted. Her clutch dropped. Panic surged through her, but everything spun too fast.

The last thing she saw before her eyes gave up was her father looking up at the staircase…

And turning away.

---

Cassian bring breakfast for her in the room where he had kept her for the past two days after kidnapping. Her father think Cassian had finally killed her, but no one knows she's still alive.

Alina didn't look at him, as he entered and place food on the nightstand and untie her wrists from the silk rope.

Alina was frustrated from all this. She didn't want to be caged like this.

"Eat", it was not a request, it was a command from Cassian. He never request anyone to do anything. He just order.

Alina look up at him. "Why?" she rasped. "Why me?"

He didn't answer right away. Just stared at her like she was something he couldn't name.

Then finally: "Because someone remembered you."

Her blood went cold. "What does that mean?"

Cassian leaned forward, and for a second, the harsh lines of his face softened into something unreadable. Regret? Memory? She couldn't tell.

"You were never supposed to be at that engagement," he said flatly. "You were supposed to be dead three nights ago."

She flinched.

"Orders changed when your father found out what you stole," he added. "You think he didn't know?"

Alina's stomach twisted.

"You don't belong to him anymore," he said. "Now, you're mine."