Chapter 10
540 Words
The Viper’s Kiss
Chapter Ten — Blood on the Marble
The Moretti estate radiated wealth, power… and tonight, impending death.
Aria moved through the gleaming glass corridors, moonlight spilling over the marble floors. But something itched at the back of her neck — wrongness clung to the air like static.
She knew how to read a battlefield, even when it masqueraded as luxury.
Shadows shifted beyond the towering windows. Patterns in security faltered. Her training whispered in her bones.
Trap.
She slipped her hand to the concealed blade at her thigh, instincts crackling sharp.
Then — glass shattered. Explosions punched through the far wing of the estate, fire illuminating the night as sirens wailed and chaos bloomed.
Rogues.
Her chest tightened.
This wasn’t some opportunistic assault. It was orchestrated.
Panic rippled through the mansion. Guards scrambled, civilians screamed. Aria darted into the shadows, movements precise as a predator. Muscle memory took over — silent steps, narrowed breath, calculating exits.
Bootsteps thundered behind her.
She pivoted, blade drawn—ready to strike—
Dante Moretti.
Blood streaked his shirt, weapon in hand, black eyes locked to hers with brutal intensity.
“Stay close,” he ordered, voice low as gravel.
Aria’s grip tightened on the blade. “I can handle myself.”
Another rogue lunged from the smoke—her knife flashed, slicing him down. His body crumpled, crimson staining the marble.
Dante’s gaze lingered a second too long — surprise? Respect? Something unspoken simmering between them.
More explosions rocked the foundation. The estate quaked under assault.
Dante grabbed her wrist, dragging her behind him through smoke and debris. “This isn’t random. You’re the target.”
The words hit like ice.
Of course. Matteo Rosetti. Bianca. They wanted her erased — leverage eliminated before history repeated itself.
But Aria wasn’t that easy to erase.
They weaved through burning halls — bodies fallen, gunfire echoing. Her mind raced: this assault was bigger than intimidation. It was a message. To Moretti, to the rival families, to the underworld itself.
Weakness bled like a beacon.
They reached the hidden vault — reinforced steel doors sealing behind them with a hiss.
Inside, silence.
Her chest heaved, lungs burning. Dante’s frame loomed near, bloodied, sharp, dangerous.
“You should’ve stayed away,” he growled, eyes dark with blame… and something rawer.
Aria straightened, defiance battling exhaustion.
“Wouldn’t have stopped this,” she snapped. “Your enemies were always circling.”
He stepped closer, heat radiating off him, tension pulling taut between them.
“You’ve cracked my empire,” Dante rasped, every word laced with accusation.
Outside, distant alarms faded. Reinforcements mobilized. The siege was contained, but the damage was done.
A faint buzz crackled from a rogue’s comms device on the floor.
Dante retrieved it, scanning the frequency — his jaw locked.
Bianca Rosetti’s voice purred through the static: “Tie up loose ends. The Viper always strikes twice.”
Aria’s spine straightened, pulse spiking.
So Bianca wasn’t just reacting—she was orchestrating.
Dante’s expression darkened, layers of rage and calculation unfolding behind his eyes.
“This isn’t over,” he muttered.
Aria’s gaze sharpened. No, it wasn’t.
Because Bianca had made her first move. But Aria wasn’t done playing this deadly game.
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