Rain glazed the city in silver when James’s phone buzzed.

Unknown number. One video.

He opened it without a word.

You sat in a high-backed chair beneath warm, theatrical lighting. No ropes. No visible bruises. A glass of water beside you. Across from you stood Luca Moretti, the rival boss with a smile too polished to trust.

“James,” Luca greeted smoothly. “Your wife and I are having a conversation.”

The camera shifted closer to your face.

You weren’t crying. You weren’t pleading.

You were steady.

“Don’t burn the city for me,” you said, eyes locked on the lens.

The screen went black.

The room around James fell silent. His men waited for orders, for strategy. For the calm, tactical boss they knew.

Instead, he replayed the clip.

Not for Luca.

For you.

Across town, Luca circled you slowly, glass in hand. “He built his empire on fear,” he murmured. “But you’re the only thing that makes him hesitate.”

You met his gaze without flinching. “He doesn’t hesitate.”

A knock at the penthouse door interrupted him. One of his men stepped inside, pale.

“Sir. Two docks just went up in flames.”

Another phone started ringing.

Luca’s expression tightened.

Miles away, James slipped on his gloves.

“Every warehouse,” he said quietly. “Every shipment tied to Moretti. I want smoke.”

Luca’s phone rang in his hand. He answered.

“You’re escalating too quickly,” Luca said. “This is business.”

“No,” James replied, voice level and lethal. “This is personal.”

Luca stepped closer to you, brushing his fingers lightly along your jaw as if testing fate.

“You’ll destroy your own empire.”

There was a brief silence on the line.

Then James spoke, softer than before.

“I’ll rebuild it.”

A beat.

“Where is she?”

You felt it then, not fear, but certainty.

Whatever this was supposed to be, whatever choice Luca thought he was forcing…

James had already made it.