The night after the attack, Arga didn’t sleep. He sat in his office, staring at the security footage on his laptop. His knuckles were still bruised from where he’d punched the wall earlier, trying to calm the storm inside him.

Someone had tried to kill him.

And whoever it was, they had no problem involving Vania in their twisted game.

The door opened quietly. Vania stepped in, her face pale but determined. She had insisted on coming, despite his protest.

“Vania, you should be resting,” Arga said without looking up.

“I couldn’t,” she replied, walking closer. “Not when I know someone tried to hurt you because of me.”

He sighed,...