Twisted Hearts.

The rain came down hard in Crimson City, blurring the neon lights into streaks of red and blue against the slick asphalt. It was the kind of night that carried secrets—too dark to reveal truth, too loud to whisper lies. Aurora Vale clutched her coat tighter as she crossed the busy street, her heels clicking like impatient warnings against the pavement. She didn’t belong here. Not anymore. Not after everything. She reached the entrance of Club Meridian—one of the city’s most exclusive underground lounges. It was all shadows and silver, a place where danger wore designer suits and heartbreak came with a glass of top-shelf whiskey. She wasn’t here for drinks. She was here for him. Kael. The name tasted like fire and regret. A man carved from storm clouds and vengeance, the type of man a girl like her should have run from. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had let him in—once. And now, she was standing at the edge of a world she swore she’d never return to. "Name?" The bouncer’s voice was gruff, eyes unmoving behind a thick scar that cut across his brow. "Aurora Vale." She didn't flinch. Let them remember. The bouncer blinked once, recognition flashing in his eyes before he stepped aside. No words. No questions. Just the silent understanding that someone like her didn’t wait in line. Inside, the air was laced with the scent of danger—cologne, smoke, power. The bass of the music vibrated through her chest as she scanned the velvet-lit room. And then, like gravity, her eyes found him. Kael Drayce. Leaning against the marble bar like he owned the night. Hair damp from the rain, dark suit molded to his body like sin itself, and those storm-gray eyes locked right on her the second she stepped in. As if he had been waiting. She took a breath. One step. Another. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice low and rough, like gravel under silk. Aurora raised an eyebrow, playing the game they both knew too well. “I didn’t come back for you.” “Liar.” She hated how the word slid from his mouth. Not with anger—but with something more dangerous. Hunger. Need. Memory. “I want the file, Kael. The one you stole.” Her voice didn’t tremble. “And I want the truth, Aurora,” he said, stepping closer. “Why did you really leave that night?” The truth? She almost laughed. The truth was fire and betrayal. It was the scent of gunpowder in the back of her throat and the way his name still kept her awake at night. But she didn’t say any of that. Not yet. Instead, she leaned in, eyes daring him to push further. “Maybe because loving you almost got me killed.” Kael’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move. Not a flinch. Not a blink. “Then maybe it’s time we find out why.” Aurora’s heart pounded beneath her ribs as Kael’s presence soaked into her space like oil. Thick. Unforgiving. She didn’t want to feel anything—not the chill of his nearness, not the familiar ache rising in her throat. But old wounds don’t heal in the face of unfinished desire. “I’m not playing your games, Kael,” she said flatly. “No,” he said, voice low. “You’re here to finish them.” Behind him, the bartender slid two glasses across the counter. Whiskey. Neat. Just like Kael always ordered it. One glass found its way to her side of the bar before she could protest. She didn’t touch it. “You think I stole that file?” he asked, swirling his drink slowly. “Or are you just looking for a reason to see me again?” Her fists clenched at her sides. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He leaned in, and the scent of his cologne hit her like memory—smoky, rich, laced with danger. “You still wear my ring.” She froze. Her hand instinctively moved to the chain around her neck, hidden beneath her blouse. His ring. Small. Silver. A symbol of promises made in fire and broken in blood. “I wear it to remind myself never to trust you again.” “And yet you came,” he said, sipping his drink. Aurora pulled back, needing distance, needing clarity. But Kael had a way of pulling the world around her out of focus. “Tell me where the file is, or I swear I’ll walk out that door and burn this whole place down.” He laughed, dark and slow. “You haven’t changed.” “No. I’ve just learned how to survive.” Kael’s face darkened. “What you’re looking for... it’s dangerous. There are people watching. Listening.” “And you’re not one of them?” she shot back. “How do I know you haven’t already sold it?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and slid a flash drive across the bar. It stopped just before her hand. Her fingers hovered over it. “What’s on it?” “Proof.” His eyes locked on hers. “But not the kind you’re ready for.” She grabbed it, slipping it into her coat pocket. “I’ll decide that.” Kael stood upright, his mood shifting like a tide. “If you’re going to look into this, you’ll need protection.” “I don’t need your help.” He smiled, and it wasn’t kind. “You don’t get to decide that anymore. You’re already in.” A cold chill ran through her. “What does that mean?” she asked quietly. Kael’s expression turned grim. “It means the lies you’re chasing… they’re more dangerous than you think. And the truth? It might kill you.” Their eyes locked. And in that moment, Aurora realized the game wasn’t just beginning. It had never ended. Aurora left Club Meridian with her pulse thundering like war drums in her chest. The city outside was still drenched in night and rain, but the real storm was inside her—the one Kael always seemed to summon. She flagged a cab and gave an address she hadn’t spoken aloud in over a year. The apartment she used when she still trusted people. When she still believed Kael was someone she could love without bleeding for it. The cab ride was silent. She gripped the flash drive in her coat pocket like a talisman, praying it held answers, not more lies. Every mile dragged her deeper into a past she’d tried to bury. She didn’t even realize her hands were shaking until the driver glanced back. “You okay, miss?” Aurora nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Just tired.” Liar. When the cab pulled up, she tossed the bills forward and climbed out. The building loomed in front of her, worn but familiar. The hallway smelled like dust and stale coffee. She hesitated at the door to Unit 4C. So many memories were sealed behind that metal lock—some soft, some screaming. She turned the key. The place was untouched, just as she left it: minimal furniture, bare walls, a knife hidden in the vent, and a pistol taped under the coffee table. Just in case. Always just in case. Aurora slid the lock behind her and crossed the room to the old laptop she kept for jobs like this. No internet. No Wi-Fi. Isolated and encrypted. She plugged in the flash drive and took a deep breath as the screen flickered to life. Files loaded. Dozens of them. Images. Voice recordings. Confidential reports. And names—so many names. Her blood ran cold as she scrolled. This wasn’t just about Kael. This was bigger. Government contractors. Blacklisted deals. Disappearances. And then she saw it—her father’s name. Alongside it, a case number: Classified. Operation Valkyrie. Her father had died five years ago. An “accident,” they said. She stared at the screen, trembling. He was never supposed to be involved in anything like this. He was a professor. A scientist. A man who brought books to life and built toys out of wood for the neighborhood kids. Why was his name listed next to armed defense firms and shadow ops? A noise behind her. She froze. The floor creaked. Barely. Someone was in the apartment. Aurora slid silently from the chair, instinct taking over. She moved to the corner of the room, fingers gripping the hidden pistol under the table. Another footstep. “Don’t move,” she called, her voice sharp, gun raised. A shadow stepped into view. And then— Kael. She exhaled, furious. “Are you out of your mind?” He raised his hands slowly. “Your security system is a joke.” “And your boundaries are nonexistent.” “You didn’t answer your phone.” She threw a glare in his direction. “You mean the burner you destroyed last year when you disappeared on me?” Kael didn’t flinch. “You saw the files?” “Yes.” “Then you know what kind of hell you’re walking into.” Aurora’s grip on the pistol didn’t ease. “Tell me everything.” Kael’s expression shifted, something hardening in his jaw. “Only if you let me help.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why should I trust you?” He stepped forward, slowly, carefully. “Because I’m the only one who knows where the bodies are buried. And if we don’t work together…” He looked her dead in the eyes. “…we’ll both end up in one.” Aurora didn’t lower the gun right away. She stared at Kael, weighing his words against the thousand ways he’d broken her trust before. But the gravity in his eyes wasn’t just for show. It wasn’t seduction or manipulation. It was the look of a man haunted by truths too dark to carry alone. Reluctantly, she placed the gun on the table. “Talk.” Kael crossed the room in a few strides and closed the blinds. “What you found tonight… that’s only the surface. Operation Valkyrie was classified for a reason. It was never supposed to see daylight.” “What was it?” she asked, sitting back down in front of the screen. “A weapons project,” Kael said, his voice clipped. “Disguised as scientific research. Your father was recruited because of his tech background—engineering, biometric mapping, AI patterning. But he didn’t know what he was building. Not at first.” Aurora swallowed hard. “And when he found out?” “He tried to pull out. Tried to leak it.” Kael’s eyes dropped for a moment. “That’s when things went wrong.” Aurora stared at the screen again, the pieces falling into place like shards of a broken mirror. “So he was silenced.” Kael nodded. “And they’re still watching. Still cleaning up loose ends.” A chill prickled her skin. “And you? Where do you fit into all this?” “I was hired to retrieve the data after your father died. But once I saw what it was… I couldn't walk away. I made copies. I kept evidence.” Aurora frowned. “So you went rogue.” “I tried to protect you.” She scoffed bitterly. “By vanishing for a year? By making me think you were dead?” Kael moved closer, crouching in front of her. “If they knew you still had access to his files, they would’ve come after you next. I needed to throw them off.” “You broke me, Kael,” she said, barely above a whisper. “And now you just expect me to trust you again?” “No,” he said softly. “I expect you to survive.” A long silence passed between them—thick with pain and truth and something neither of them wanted to name. Finally, Aurora looked back at the flash drive. “So what’s the plan?” Kael stood. “We decrypt the rest of the files, follow the trail, find the people still running Valkyrie—and expose them.” “And if they find us first?” Kael’s mouth tightened. “Then we go down swinging.” Aurora leaned back in the chair, heart pounding with something more than fear. A storm was rising, and they were already in its path. She looked up at him, eyes sharp. “Then let’s not waste time.” Kael gave her a look she couldn’t quite read. “We’re in this together now, Aurora. No more running.” She nodded, knowing this time, the stakes weren’t just personal. They were deadly. And love? Love might be the most dangerous piece of all.