Chapter 11 Shackled in the Dark

Pain pulsed through Aria's skull like a hammer pounding against bone.

She groaned, her senses swimming in darkness.

The last thing she remembered was the motel. The room filled with secrets. The revelation that Nolan had been investigating the mafia. That he had been investigating Killian.

And then—a shadow. A strike.

Her fingers twitched against something rough.

Rope.

A chair.

Panic surged through her as she jolted upright, only for her wrists to burn against the restraints.

She was tied.

The air was damp, the scent of rust and mildew thick.

Aria sucked in a breath, forcing herself to steady her pulse. No blindfold. No gag.

Whoever had taken her wanted her awake.

Wanted her aware.

A voice cut through the dimly lit room.

"Detective Aria Callahan."

She turned toward the sound, her gaze locking onto a shadowed figure leaning against the far wall.

Her captor stepped forward, into the sliver of flickering light from a single hanging bulb.

Nolan Graves.

A Ghost Returns

Aria's breath hitched.

It was him.

The man she had been chasing. The man who had disappeared from every record for over a decade.

And he was standing right in front of her.

Nolan wasn't what she expected. His face was weathered, his dark hair streaked with gray, his eyes hollow with something far heavier than exhaustion.

He looked like a man who had spent too many years running from ghosts.

But now, he was done running.

Aria gritted her teeth. "You were at the motel."

A smirk ghosted across his lips. "You weren't supposed to find that place."

"Too bad." Her voice was sharp. "You knew my parents. You knew what happened to them."

Nolan tilted his head. "I knew a lot of things, detective. The problem is… what I knew was dangerous."

Aria yanked against the ropes. "Then tell me."

A shadow crossed his expression.

"You're not ready."

Her jaw clenched. "Bullshit."

Nolan exhaled, stepping closer.

"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was almost… pitying. "The things you're chasing—they don't just end with a name in a case file. They don't stop once you put handcuffs on someone. This is bigger than that."

Her pulse pounded. "Bigger than Killian Laurent?"

Silence.

For a moment, just a fraction of a second, she saw something flicker across Nolan's face.

Recognition.

Pain.

Fear.

Then, just as quickly, he schooled his expression.

"You should've left it alone," he murmured.

Aria's stomach twisted. "Why?"

He looked at her, something almost regretful in his eyes.

"Because now you won't have a choice."

A Dead Man's Warning

Before Aria could respond, the sound of a phone vibrating broke the silence.

Nolan sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

He didn't check the screen before answering.

"She found me," he said simply.

A pause.

Then—a voice on the other end.

Low. Smooth. Controlled.

Killian.

Aria's breath caught.

Nolan listened, his gaze unreadable as Killian spoke.

Then, after a long silence, he exhaled sharply and muttered, "I know."

He hung up.

Aria's blood ran cold.

"You're working with him."

Nolan's jaw tightened. "I don't work for anyone."

"Then why the hell is he calling you?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned, dragging a chair across the floor before sinking into it.

"You have two choices, detective."

Aria's muscles coiled.

Nolan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You can keep playing cop. Keep chasing ghosts. Keep digging for a truth that's only going to get you killed."

He paused, his gaze hardening.

"Or you can listen. And if you listen, maybe—just maybe—you'll survive this."

Her fingers curled into fists.

"Why should I trust you?"

Nolan let out a dry chuckle. "You shouldn't."

Then, his expression darkened.

"But you sure as hell shouldn't trust Killian Laurent either."

Aria's breath hitched.

Nolan leaned closer, his voice dropping.

"He's not who you think he is."

Her pulse roared in her ears.

But before she could demand answers, the door slammed open.

And standing in the doorway—

Killian.

The Devil at the Doorstep

Killian stepped inside, his presence suffocating the room.

Nolan didn't move. Didn't flinch.

Neither did Aria.

Killian's gaze flickered to her wrists, still tied. Then, to Nolan.

His jaw tightened.

"You shouldn't have taken her." His voice was smooth, but beneath it was something razor-sharp.

Nolan exhaled. "She left me no choice."

Killian's lips pressed into a thin line. Then, without warning, he pulled a gun.

Aria's breath caught.

But Nolan didn't react.

If anything, he looked… tired.

"If you wanted me dead, Laurent, you would've done it a long time ago."

Killian's grip didn't waver.

Aria swallowed hard. "Someone start explaining. Now."

Killian's eyes met hers.

And for the first time, she saw something in them that unsettled her more than his obsession.

Regret.

He turned back to Nolan.

"She's not ready."

Nolan scoffed. "She's past ready."

Killian's jaw clenched.

Then, finally, he lowered the gun.

He stepped forward, reaching into his coat.

A knife glinted under the dim light.

Aria didn't move as he crouched in front of her, the blade flashing as he cut through the ropes.

Her hands were free.

She should've pulled her gun. Should've demanded answers.

But something about the way Killian was looking at her made her breath stall.

Because for the first time since she met him—

He didn't look like a puppet master in control.

He looked like a man who had just made a choice he could never take back.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

"Come with me."

Aria hesitated.

Then, she looked at Nolan.

He was watching her. Waiting.

For what?

The truth?

Or for her to make the wrong choice?

She turned back to Killian.

And in that moment, she realized—

There was no right choice.

Not anymore.