Chapter 2 THE BLACK ENVELOPE

OBSIDIAN VEINS

Book One – The Spark & The Secret

CHAPTER TWO: The Black Envelope

There are names that burn. And there are names that ruin you.

NIKOLAI

I don't dream often.

But when I do, it's always of her.

Not her face. That's still a mystery. But her eyes. The way she moved. The smell of rain and blood. The soft rasp of her voice telling me I owed her.

Four days since she vanished. Four days since she left me stitched and smirking in that alley like some dark angel with combat boots and surgeon's hands.

And I hadn't stopped looking.

"Nothing?" I asked coldly.

Lucien leaned on the marble bar in my study, a lit cigarette between two fingers. "No known associates. No name. No trace. I even checked the Riccis' call logs-if she was one of theirs, she's deep-cover."

"She's not Ricci."

"You sure?"

"She didn't flinch when she saw me bleeding out. Ricci girls panic when their nail polish chips."

Lucien snorted. "You're obsessed."

"I'm intrigued."

He smirked. "That's worse."

It was past midnight when the envelope arrived.

No knock. No footfall. Just the soft flap of paper sliding under the door of my penthouse study.

I froze.

The security system hadn't pinged. No breach alerts. Whoever dropped it knew exactly how to walk invisible in my world.

I picked it up, scanned it. No return mark. Black envelope. Thick. Quality paper.

Inside was a single Polaroid.

A grainy shot of a woman-masked. Dark eyes. Lean shoulders. Standing outside an abandoned boxing gym in West Graven.

And on the back, in heavy red ink:

DELILAH.

Try not to fall in love with your bullet wound, Moreau.

No signature. No threat.

Just a name.

Delilah.

It wasn't hers. I knew that instantly. It was a whisper-bait tied in silk.

But I bit anyway.

SIENA

I knew the letter would reach him.

And I knew what it would do.

The name wasn't mine, of course. But "Delilah" was close enough to feel like skin. It was the name they gave me during recon-my alias when I worked jobs that blurred lines between hacking, infiltration, and blackmail.

He'd chase it. He was already obsessed, even if he didn't know it yet. That's what power-starved men did when something slipped through their fingers.

And I needed him obsessed.

Because I wasn't just digging for information on my father's death anymore. I wanted everything.

The truth. The lies. The empire.

Eva wasn't thrilled.

"You sent him your photo?" she snapped as we paced the rooftop of our apartment complex, the neon glow of the city pulsing around us.

"He already knows my face."

"Masked."

"He won't forget my eyes."

"That's not comfort, Siena. That's a death wish."

I lit a cigarette, even though I'd quit two years ago. "He'll come looking."

"Yeah," she hissed. "And what's the plan when he finds you?"

"I get inside."

"Inside his compound?"

I exhaled smoke. "Inside him."

Eva choked. "Tell me you're not seducing him."

"I don't need to seduce him. He's already halfway there. I just need to make him believe he's the one in control."

"That's not a plan. That's suicide."

"Not if I get to the files."

"You still think his family killed your dad?"

"I don't think. I know."

NIKOLAI

I found the gym.

Boarded windows. Rusted lock. The scent of oil and mold wafting from inside. The kind of place where secrets rotted like old teeth.

The moment I stepped in, I knew she'd been here. Recently.

There was a scarf on the floor. Silk. Black. Expensive.

I brought it to my nose and inhaled.

Rain. Cinnamon. Blood.

It was her.

But she was already gone.

Lucien leaned on the opposite wall, watching me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had.

"You're chasing a ghost," he said.

"She wants to be found."

"You think this Delilah bullshit is a trail?"

"No. I think it's a test."

"To see what?"

"If I'm worth the trouble."

SIENA

The next time I saw him, I wasn't expecting it.

Eva and I were working out of the old nightclub downtown-our temporary HQ. I was checking surveillance feeds for a Ricci warehouse when Eva went still.

"Don't turn," she whispered.

I froze. "What?"

"He's here."

My pulse spiked.

I turned anyway.

He stood at the edge of the bar like a statue chiseled from shadow. Black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Tattoos inked like scripture along his forearms. That same cold calculation in his steel-gray eyes.

He didn't blink.

Didn't speak.

He just looked at me-like a man finally locating the wound that never healed.

And then he walked toward me.

Each step sounded like a countdown.

Five... four... three...

"Delilah," he said.

I smiled under my breath. "Is that what we're calling me now?"

"You look better without the mask."

"You don't."

He laughed.

The sound hit me like an earthquake. Low. Rough. Sincere.

"You sent me a name," he said.

"I did."

"It's not yours."

"No."

"But you wanted me to find you."

I shrugged. "Did it work?"

His smile vanished. "It worked too well."

NIKOLAI

Up close, she was more dangerous than I'd imagined.

It wasn't her body-though that alone could kill. It was the way she moved, like she'd already played out every move I'd make, five steps ahead.

Like a chessmaster dressed in black leather and smirking secrets.

"You're not a bartender," I said, eyes roaming the club.

"You're not bleeding anymore," she replied.

"You got a name?"

"I thought you liked the mystery."

"I'm starting to hate it."

She leaned on the counter. "Hate turns into hunger. And hunger makes men sloppy."

"You studying me?"

"Someone should."

I moved closer. We were inches apart now. Her breath smelled like whiskey and sin.

"I'm not safe, Delilah."

She didn't flinch. "Neither am I."

SIENA

He kissed me.

I didn't expect it.

I'd planned every move-every phrase, every look, every micro-expression to keep him dancing in the palm of my hand.

But he kissed me first.

And it was chaos.

Hot. Brutal. Desperate.

The kind of kiss that set buildings on fire and started wars.

I let him.

Not because I lost control-but because he did.

And that was the opening I needed.

NIKOLAI

When I pulled away, she was smiling.

"You regret that?" I asked, breathless.

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because it told me everything I needed to know."

"Which is?"

"You're just as broken as me."

FLASHBACK – EIGHT YEARS AGO

Rain pounded the roof of the safehouse. My hands were covered in blood.

I was twenty.

My father had just been gunned down in front of the entire Moreau inner circle.

Lucien had a broken jaw. My mother was screaming. And I sat in the corner, shaking with the weight of inheritance and bloodshed.

They said I wasn't ready.

They said I'd die trying.

They said Carmine would chew me up.

I proved them wrong.

But I never forgot the pain. The betrayal. The sound of my father's last breath.

That sound lived in my bones now.

And I heard it again... when I kissed her.

SIENA

Eva cornered me in the bathroom after he left.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed.

"I needed to get close."

"You're playing with a man who cuts out tongues for sport."

"And yet, I still have mine."

"This isn't a game."

"No," I said quietly. "It's revenge."

END OF CHAPTER TWO