But before I can answer, Ares steps forward. "We're going to fix this." His voice carries that quiet authority that brooks no argument. "All of it. But first, you need to stop destroying your inventory."
Nick moves to Emma's side, pulling her into his arms. She collapses against him, the fight draining out of her. "How?" she whispers. "How do we fix this?"
I meet Ares's gaze across the kitchen, seeing the determination there. Because he knows what I know—this isn't just about bad reviews or health inspections. This is war, declared in the most insidious way possible. This is the Saints, striking at everything I love.
Hours later, the journey back to my loft feels heavy with unspoken fears. Every streetlight we pass casts shadows across Ares's face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the darkness in his eyes. The same tension that's been building in my chest since we left Emma's store, threatening to suffocate me.
The moment we're through my door, everything bubbles over.
"This is about you hacking into his computer, isn't it?" The words tumble out, sharp with fear and accusation.
Ares's silence is answer enough. I run trembling fingers through my hair, panic clawing at my throat like a living thing.
"The media's been quiet about us because they've found a better target."
I pace across the room, unable to stay still as panic claws up my throat. "They're not coming after us directly—they're destroying everyone I love instead."
"Bella—"
"No!" The word tears from somewhere primal inside me. "They're methodically dismantling everything that matters to me. Every business, every friend, every support system I've built."
Ares reaches for me, but I sidestep, my back hitting the wall. I need space, need air, need to think through the terror threatening to drown me.
"Do you understand what's happening?" My voice drops to a whisper. "These are people who built everything from nothing. And now they might lose it all because I was selfish enough to think we deserved happiness."
I press my palms against my eyes, fighting to regain control.
"Don't." Ares's voice is rough as he closes the distance between us, pulling me into his arms despite my weak resistance. "Don't you dare blame yourself for their cruelty. For their vindictiveness."
I collapse against his chest, sobs wracking my body. His arms tighten around me, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other presses against my lower back, holding me together as I fall apart.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers against my hair, his own voice thick with emotion. "We're going to fix this. All of it. I swear to you."
"How?" I pull back just enough to look up at him, tasting salt on my lips. "How do we fight people who can destroy lives with a few phone calls? Who can ruin businesses with fake reviews and 'anonymous' complaints? Who have the money and power to make problems appear out of nowhere?"
The hesitation in his eyes makes my stomach drop. "I don't know yet," he admits, thumbs brushing away my tears. "But I swear to you, Isabella, I will find a way. I won't let them take anything else from you."
"That's not good enough." My fingers curl into his shirt, twisting the expensive fabric. "They're hurting people I love, Ares. We need more than promises."
He cradles my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Listen to me. I will burn my father's empire to the ground before I let him take anything else from you. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do—I will make this right."
The fierce determination in his voice should be comforting, but all I can think about is Emma's devastated face, the tremor in her hands as she destroyed her own creations. The hollow sound of Amanda's laugh as she surveyed her ruined inventory.
"What if it's already too late?" The words come out as a broken whisper. "What if they've already won?"
Ares's grip tightens, almost painful in its intensity. "They haven't won. They won’t. They think this is about control, about power." His eyes burn with something dangerous, something that reminds me of exactly who he is—what he comes from. "But this is about love. About family. About loyalty. And those?" His thumb traces my bottom lip, tender despite the fire in his eyes. "Those are things they've never understood. Never will understand."
I want to believe him. God, how I want to believe him. But the weight of what we're facing presses down on me like a physical thing, threatening to crush us both beneath its terrible weight.
"I'm scared," I admit, the words barely audible, torn from the deepest part of me.
"I know." He presses his forehead to mine, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "But we're stronger together. And whatever game my parent’s playing? There about to learn exactly how dangerous love can be when it's threatened."
I breathe in his familiar scent, trying to draw strength from his certainty. But even in his arms, I can't shake the image of dominos falling—one dream after another, collapsing under the weight of Saint vengeance.
His dark eyes hold mine, and I see everything we're risking reflected back at me—love and fear, determination and doubt, the fierce need to protect warring with the quiet fear that we might not be enough.
Some wars aren't meant to be won with love alone. But God help me, I'm going to fight beside him anyway.
