Hayden didn't wait for dawn.
By the time the city stirred, his plans were already in motion. Phone calls had been made. Old debts pulled. Enemies reminded why they feared the name Moretti.
He sat in the back of a black armored SUV, suit crisp, expression colder than the steel gun holstered beneath his jacket. Across from him sat Rocco—his most trusted man—brows furrowed as he relayed the intel.
"Found the message's origin," Rocco said, sliding a photo across the seat. "A man named Elias Durand. Mid-level French arms dealer. Used to run shipments for Nicholas before the fall."
Hayden didn't even glance at the photo. "He posted the bounty?"
Rocco nodded. "Anonymous account. But his IP was sloppy."
"Good," Hayden muttered. "Then make it public."
Rocco blinked. "Public?"
"Everyone in the underworld knows who I am. But I want them to remember why they should fear me."
Hayden's voice was low and lethal. "Elias Durand dies tonight. And the next person who even thinks Ana's name… dies slower."
Rocco leaned back and gave a sharp nod.
---
Ana wandered through the marble halls of the penthouse, barefoot and still wearing the silk robe Hayden had torn halfway open earlier. The heat from the morning sun poured through the massive windows, but all she felt was a chill.
She paused by the grand piano. He'd never played it, but once, late at night, she thought she heard him sitting there, fingers hovering over the keys, lost in memory.
That man was a mystery.
The one who touched her like she was art, kissed her like a curse—and murdered without blinking.
She found herself drawn to the security monitors in the office, flickering black-and-white scenes of street corners and lobbies. One screen showed Hayden exiting the SUV in a dark alley. Another showed him slipping gloves over his hands.
Her stomach turned.
She loved him.
But she didn't know if she could live with the version of him the world feared.
---
The warehouse was quiet.
Too quiet.
Hayden walked through the metal corridor with the air of a man who feared nothing. The moment he entered the room, three men stood. Guns raised.
He didn't flinch.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly. "Tell your boss he has one chance to live."
A slow clap echoed from behind a pillar.
Elias Durand stepped forward, smirking.
"Hayden Moretti. I've heard stories. You're taller than I imagined."
"And you're more foolish than I thought," Hayden said.
Durand's smirk faltered. "I suppose you came here to scare me."
Hayden stepped forward, slowly pulling off his gloves.
"No. I came here to show you what happens when someone touches what's mine."
He didn't give another warning.
The gun was in his hand before Durand blinked.
One shot to the thigh. Another to the hand. The man screamed and dropped, writhing.
The guards moved—then saw Rocco and three more of Hayden's men surround them. Silent. Unflinching.
Hayden crouched beside Durand, voice calm.
"Let me be clear. That woman is *mine*. She breathes because I allow it. She sleeps under my roof because I protect her. And you—"
He twisted the man's shattered hand, making him scream again.
"You tried to take that from me."
"I-It was business!" Durand gasped. "Just a contract—"
Hayden leaned in, eyes like obsidian.
"This is my business now. And this is how I do it."
He stood, gun still raised.
But instead of killing Durand, he turned to Rocco.
"Send the footage to the underground network. Let everyone watch him crawl."
He met Durand's bloody gaze.
"Let them see what happens when you cross a wolf."
---
That night, Ana was waiting for him.
She didn't speak as he walked in, blood still fresh on his sleeves. He looked like war. Like vengeance made flesh.
She stepped toward him anyway.
"Was it done?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Was it necessary?"
He hesitated. Then walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"No," he whispered. "But it felt good."
Ana stared at him, searching for the man beneath the monster.
"You keep crossing lines, Hayden."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers.
"For you, I'd erase the whole damn map."