The phone rings, a tinny, artificial sound in the silence.
“Kostas Development, how may I direct your call?” a crisp, professional voice answers.
My own voice is a dry rasp. “Milo. I’m calling for Milo.”
“And who may I say is calling?”
I hesitate. Using my name is a risk, but I need to get his attention. “Aria,” I say, the name feeling like a confession.
“One moment.”
The line clicks over to a soulless hold music melody. Each second stretches into an eternity. He could refuse the call. He could tell Cassian. He could hang up.
“What do you want?” His voice is a low, panicked growl. Not a greeting. An accusation.
“Milo,” I breathe, a wave of relief making me dizzy.
“Are you insane?” he hisses, his voice tight with terror. “You can’t call me. You can’t callhere. He’ll know. He’ll kill me.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I say, forcing strength into my voice. I can’t afford to sound like a victim, I have to be a threat. “I’m out, Milo.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I know. He’s… he’s not good, Aria. You need to disappear. Get out of the city, change your name. He’s tearing the whole damn city apart looking for you.”
The confirmation sends a fresh wave of ice through my veins. “I can’t just run, Milo. You know that. This isn’t just about me.” I take a breath, and I play my only card. “I know about Leo.”
Silence. Complete and absolute. I can hear the faint hum of his office, the distant sound of a ringing phone but from Milo, there is nothing. I’ve hit the nerve.
“I know he was Cassian’s brother,” I continue, pressing my advantage. “I know they were in the car that night. With my sister.”
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers. It’s not a curse. It’s a prayer. “Aria, you have no idea what you’ve stepped into. This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than Cassian.”
“Then help me,” I plead, my voice cracking despite myself. “I’m not asking you to betray him, I’m asking you to help me stay alive. I need to know what he’s doing. I need to know how to stay one step ahead.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I can picture him in his office, running a hand over his face, caught between his fear of Cassian and the horror of the situation.
“He put the crews on notice,” Milo says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “Every construction site, every man on his payroll inthis city is looking for you. He’s offering a fortune to whoever finds you. You can’t hide, Aria. There’s nowhere you can go that he doesn’t own a piece of.”
My stomach plummets. It’s worse than I thought. I’m not just hiding from a man; I’m hiding from an army.
“Milo, please,” I whisper. “Just tell me when he’s not looking. Tell me where he is. That’s all I need.”
Another long pause. “I can’t make any promises,” he says, the reluctance heavy in his voice. “This is a death sentence. For both of us.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m already dead if you don’t.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath. “Don’t call this number again. I’ll… I’ll find a way. Be safe, Aria.”
The line goes dead.
I stare at the burner phone in my hand. I have an ally. A terrified, reluctant, fragile ally. It’s not much, but it’s more than I had an hour ago.
The news that Cassian has an army of eyes looking for me is terrifying, but it also clarifies things. My studio, once a sanctuary, is now just a ticking clock. I can’t stay here. I can’t stay anywhere for long.
I look around the dark room at the shrouded canvases, the silent ghosts of my art. They represent a life I can no longer have. The girl who painted them is gone. I am someone else now. Someone being forged in darkness and fear and if Cassian Kostas is a hunter, then I will have to learn to be the Wraith.
Thirty Six
Aria
