The meeting was arranged in a neutral location. A glass café downtown. Public. Safe.
Or so they thought.
Vikrant Mehra walked in like he owned the air.
Greasy. Smug. Still dressed in silk shirts and outdated power.
Aaria was already seated.
Alone.
At least, that's what Vikrant thought.
What he didn't see—was the black Escalade across the street.
Or the man inside it.
Watching. Waiting.
Rafael.
"You look well," Vikrant said, sitting across from her with a grin.
Aaria didn't return the smile.
"You look the same," she replied. "Still rotten."
The grin faltered.
"I came to give you a chance," he said. "We're family, after all."
"We stopped being family the day you let that man touch me and called it my fault."
He leaned forward. "Careful, girl. You're not as untouchable as you think. Your little billionaire boyfriend can't protect you from everything."
She didn't flinch.
"I'm not here to be protected. I'm here to tell you this—stay away from me. From my life. Or I swear, I will burn every memory of you from my past."
His smile twisted. "You think you're strong now? You're still the same scared little—"
BANG.
The café door slammed open.
Heads turned.
Rafael walked in.
The suit. The presence. The rage barely restrained behind obsidian eyes.
Aaria didn't even look surprised.
Vikrant stood up fast, the color draining from his face.
"Mr. Viera," he stammered. "This is private—"
Rafael didn't blink.
He walked straight up to him, slow and deliberate.
Then whispered something only Vikrant heard.
The man turned white.
Tried to speak.
Failed.
Because Rafael had just told him exactly what would happen if he so much as breathed in Aaria's direction again.
"Let's go," Rafael said, voice sharp but soft—only for her.
Aaria stood.
Walked beside him without looking back.
But just as they reached the door, she paused.
Turned.
And spoke to Vikrant in a voice so calm it sliced deeper than any scream:
"You never broke me. I just stopped letting you think you mattered."
They left the café in silence.
But in the car, Rafael didn't speak right away.
His hand found hers on the leather seat.
And when he finally spoke, it wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
"You are the girl who set fire to the dark," he whispered. "And I am the man who will burn the world for your light."