Chapter 9 The Devil's Invitation

The address burned into Aria's mind long after she had locked her apartment and slipped into the driver's seat of her car.

She knew this was reckless.

Killian had made it clear—this wasn't just about a case anymore. This was personal.

He was leading her somewhere. Somewhere only he controlled.

And yet, she still typed the address into her GPS.

The location was across the city, near the industrial district—a place where the law held no power and criminals ruled the night.

Her grip tightened on the wheel as she drove.

If this was a trap, she was walking into it fully aware.

The Abandoned Cathedral

Aria pulled up to the location, cutting the engine.

A ruined cathedral loomed ahead, its once-grand stone walls cracked and weathered by time. Ivy crawled up its structure, twisting around shattered stained-glass windows. The building should have been a relic of faith—instead, it was a monument of forgotten sins.

A place like this suited Killian.

She stepped out of the car, her boots crunching against the gravel as she made her way toward the entrance.

The massive wooden doors creaked open at the slightest touch.

Inside, moonlight spilled through the broken ceiling, casting fractured shadows along the pews. The altar remained untouched, but everything else had been claimed by time and decay.

And yet… she wasn't alone.

A figure sat on the steps of the altar, waiting.

Killian.

A Game of Control

Aria's steps were slow and deliberate as she approached him, every muscle in her body coiled tight.

Killian looked almost… at ease. His suit jacket was discarded, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up, revealing inked forearms.

"Didn't think you'd come," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk.

Aria kept her stance firm. "You already knew I would."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "You're right."

Her fingers itched toward the gun strapped to her thigh, but she didn't reach for it—not yet.

"Why did you lead me here?" she demanded.

Killian tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Because you won't stop digging."

"Then give me the truth."

He stood, his movements unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world to play with her.

"You think truth is something I can just hand over?" he murmured. "It doesn't work like that, Aria."

She exhaled sharply. Of course not.

Killian was a master of secrets, a man who thrived in the shadows. The truth wouldn't come easy.

But Aria was done playing.

She took a step closer, closing the space between them.

"Were you there the night my parents died?"

A flicker of something passed over his face, so quick she almost missed it.

Then—a lie.

"No."

Her heart pounded. He was hiding something.

She didn't hesitate—she lunged.

Her hand fisted in his shirt, yanking him closer, the barrel of her gun pressing against his ribs.

Killian didn't flinch.

If anything… he looked amused.

"Is this where you finally pull the trigger?" he mused, his voice a whisper against her skin.

Her breath was ragged. "Tell me the truth."

His hand lifted—slow, deliberate.

And then, he caught her wrist.

Aria sucked in a sharp breath as his grip tightened, his body pressing against hers until her back hit one of the cathedral's stone pillars.

His lips ghosted near her ear.

"The truth," he murmured, "is that I've been watching you for a very long time, Aria."

Her stomach twisted.

"You think this started when you began investigating me?" he continued. "No. It started long before that."

Her pulse slammed against her ribs. "Why?"

A dark chuckle escaped him. "Because I couldn't stay away."

The confession sent a shiver down her spine.

This wasn't just a cat-and-mouse game to him. It was something far, far more dangerous.

Her fingers tightened around the gun—but Killian didn't let go.

He leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing her temple. "You were mine before you even knew it."

Something inside her snapped.

She shoved against him, breaking free, her breathing uneven.

Killian let her go. But the damage was already done.

She was in too deep.

And he knew it.

A Name That Changes Everything

Aria swallowed the panic rising in her throat and steadied herself.

"You gave me Nolan's name," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Why?"

Killian studied her for a moment.

Then, he finally spoke.

"Because Nolan was there that night, too."

Her breath hitched.

Her mind reeled.

If Nolan Graves had been there the night of her parents' deaths, then—

He wasn't just an informant.

He was a witness.

Or worse—a suspect.

She took a shaky step back, her hands clenched into fists. "You should have told me sooner."

Killian's gaze darkened. "And you should have listened when I warned you to stop."

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

She couldn't stop now.

She turned sharply on her heel, marching toward the cathedral's exit.

Killian didn't stop her.

But as she reached the door, his voice echoed through the empty space—a final warning.

"Find Nolan, Aria. But when you do… you won't like what you uncover."

Her fingers trembled as she pushed the door open and stepped into the night.

The hunt had taken a new turn.

And this time, she wasn't sure she was ready for the truth waiting at the end.