Chapter 1: The Sanctuary Of Sin.

The Onyx Gates

The steering wheel is slick under my palms, coated in a mixture of rain and the blood that won’t stop soaking into the seat beneath me. Every breath I take feels like I’m swallowing shards of glass. My father’s empire is a graveyard, and I am the only ghost that managed to escape.

I push the car harder, the engine screaming as I tear through the industrial district. There is only one place left for me. It’s a place I was taught to fear before I could even walk—the gates of the Vane estate. My father’s mortal enemy for decades. The man who has spent half his life trying to dismantle everything my family built.

But tonight, the enemy of my enemy is my only hope.

I see the massive iron gates of The Onyx looming out of the darkness. They are towering, cold, and forbidding. As I screech to a halt, the headlights of my car cut through the heavy downpour, illuminating the black metal. I don’t even have the strength to turn off the engine. I just stumble out of the car, my legs giving way for a second before I catch myself on the door.

The rain hits me with a vengeance, instantly turning my white silk dress into a heavy, crimson-stained shroud.

“Stop right there!”

The shout is barely audible over the thunder, but the metallic click of several rifles being readied is a sound I know too well. I look up, squinting against the rain. Four massive bodyguards stand behind the gate, their faces masked by the shadows of their tactical gear. Every single one of them has a gun pointed directly at my heart.

“I’m looking for Simo Vane!” I scream, my voice cracking and thin. Tears mix with the rainwater streaming down my face. “Please! Do not kill me!”

They don’t lower their weapons. If anything, they step closer to the bars, their aim steady. I look like a madwoman, a blood-soaked specter appearing out of the night, but I don’t care. I have nothing left to lose.

“I said, I need to see Simo!” I shout again, clutching my stomach as a fresh wave of pain rolls through me. I’m shaking so violently I can barely stand. “Please… just tell him I’m here.”

One of the men, taller than the rest, steps forward into the light. He looks at my blood-stained dress, then at the expensive car idling behind me. His eyes are hard, suspicious.

“Who the hell are you?” he barks, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Give me a name or I’ll drop you where you stand.”

I take a staggering step forward, my hand reaching out for the cold iron bars of the gate. My vision is starting to blur at the edges, the world tilting on its axis.

“I’m Ria,” I whisper, my strength failing. “Ria Ambrose. Tell him… tell Simo I’m here. Tell him I’m begging.”

I see the shock flash across the guard’s face—the name Ambrose is a death sentence in this territory. He says something into the radio at his shoulder, but I don’t hear the words. The darkness is rising up to meet me, heavy and silent. My knees hit the wet pavement first, the cold shock of it barely registering.

The last thing I see before my world goes black is the massive gates beginning to groan open, and the silhouette of a man stepping out into the storm.

 As my eyes close, I feel a pair of strong, gloved hands catch me before my head hits the concrete, and a deep, unfamiliar voice growls, “Get the medic. Now.”

I wake up to the sound of a steady, rhythmic drip. My eyelids feel like they are weighted with lead, and when I finally force them open, the world is a blur of high ceilings and dark, polished wood. I am not in a hospital. I am lying on a massive, velvet sofa in the center of a living room that looks more like a throne room. The air smells of expensive leather and the lingering scent of rain.

A man in a white coat leans over me, his face a mask of professional indifference as he adjusts the IV line taped to my arm. My throat is parched, every breath feeling like sandpaper against my chest.

“Where am I?” I rasp, my voice barely a whisper.

The doctor doesn’t even look at me. He continues his work in silence, his fingers moving with a clinical precision that makes me feel more like an object than a person. I try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness crashes over me, forcing me back onto the cushions.

“He won’t answer you,” a deep, melodic voice vibrates through the room.

I turn my head toward the sound. Standing by a massive floor-to-ceiling window is a man silhouetted against the grey morning light. He is tall, his presence commanding the very air around him. He turns slowly, and my heart stops. It’s him. Simo Vane. He is even more imposing in person than in the blurred photos my father used to show me. His dark eyes track over me with a predatory stillness.

“Who do you say you are?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with a cold edge.

“I’m Ria,” I say, trying to find some shred of the dignity I was raised with. “Ria Ambrose.”

He lets out a short, humorless breath and walks toward me. He stops just a few feet away, looming over the bed. “You shouldn’t be here, Ria. Do you have any idea how easy it would be to order my men to end your bloodline right now? You are in the heart of the enemy’s house.”

“I need your help,” I say, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

“Help?” He scoffs, his lip curling in a slight sneer. “Why should I help you? Our families have been fighting a war for decades. We have spilled enough of each other’s blood to fill a lake, and you still have the nerve to crawl to my gate?”

“I had no choice,” I say, the tears stinging my eyes again. “My father’s house was ambushed. They killed him, Simo. He’s gone. And my mother… they took her. She’s gone too.”

I reach out a hand toward him, but he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t even move.

“Help me get revenge,” I beg, the words spilling out of me in a desperate rush. “Help me kill the people who did this.”

Simo stares at me for a long beat, his expression unreadable. Then, he lets out a low, dry cough and shakes his head. “You have no idea what you are asking for, Little Princess.”

He turns his back on me and begins to walk away, his strides long and purposeful.

“Simo!” I call out, my voice loud and desperate in the vast room. “Please! Look at me!”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even flinch. He continues walking toward the heavy double doors, leaving me alone with the silent doctor and the crushing weight of my own desperation.

 Just as he reaches the door, he pauses, his hand on the handle, and speaks without turning around. “If you’re still alive by sunset, perhaps I’ll tell you the price of my mercy.”

I wake up in a bedroom that feels more like a luxurious vault. The sheets are cool silk against my skin, and for the first time in days, the throbbing in my head has settled into a dull hum. I sit up, testing my weight. I feel stronger. The desperation that fueled me yesterday has hardened into a cold, sharp blade of resolve.

I don’t wait for an invitation. I find a plain black mini dress draped over a chair clearly left for me and slide into it. It’s short, hugging my curves in a way that makes me feel exposed but dangerous. I throw open the heavy bedroom doors and march down the hallway, following the low rumble of voices until I burst into the massive living room.

Simo is there. He’s sitting in a leather armchair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, surrounded by three of his men. They all stop talking the moment I enter. Their eyes track me, scanning the length of my legs and the defiance in my stare.

“What are you doing, Ria?” Simo asks. He doesn’t rise. He just leans back, his dark eyes hooded as he watches me.

“I survived sunset,” I say, my voice ringing clear through the space. “I survived the night, and I survived until today. You told me you’d consider my demand. Help me get my revenge.”

I walk closer, stopping right in front of him. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, that same electric charge from the night before making my skin tingle. “Help me, and when it’s done, I’m leaving. I’ll go my own way and you’ll never see me again.”

A low, dry laugh escapes his throat. It’s not a kind sound. He sets his glass down and stands up, his height forcing me to tilt my head back just to keep eye contact. He steps into my personal space, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting my eyes again.

“You think this is a business transaction?” he murmurs, his voice a dangerous caress. “I will help you. I’ll give you the blood you’re screaming for. But you won’t be leaving, Ria. You stay here, with me. And you don’t go anywhere until I please.”

The air in my lungs vanishes. My father’s daughter doesn’t take orders. I don’t like being controlled, and the possessive gleam in his eyes tells me exactly what kind of cage he’s building for me.

“I’m not your prisoner, Simo,” I snap, my heart hammering against my ribs. “If you won’t agree to my terms, I’ll find someone else. I’m leaving.”

I turn on my heel, heading for the massive double doors, my pulse racing with a mix of fear and fury.

“Lock the doors,” Simo says calmly.

Before I can reach the handle, two of his men move with lightning speed. The heavy bolts slide into place with a deafening metallic thud. I pull at the handles, but they don’t budge. I’m trapped.

I spin around, my chest heaving, to find Simo standing right behind me. He hasn’t broken his stride. He looms over me, his shadow swallowing me whole. He reaches out, his thumb catching my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

“You walked into the lion’s den, Princess,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “And the lion doesn’t let go of what he’s caught. You aren’t leaving.”