Jane Okoraforの小説

Aria’s POVThe apartment went silent after the voice outside mentioned reporters. For a moment, nobody moved. The weight of those words pressed against the walls, thickening the air until it felt difficult to breathe. Adrian turned sharply toward Damien, his eyes narrowing with accusation. “What the hell did you bring here?” Damien barely reacted. His calmness was unnerving. “I didn’t bring anything,” he said evenly. “They follow me everywhere.” “That’s supposed to make this better?” Adrian’s voice carried irritation, but beneath it was something else,unease. The kind that comes when control slips too quickly through your fingers. Another knock hit the door, louder, more impatient. “Mr. Blackwell?” Damien ignored it completely. His attention stayed on me. “You need to stay inside tonight,” he said. The words came naturally, like he was used to people listening. I frowned. “And why exactly would I listen to you?” “Because reporters downstairs means cameras,” he replied. “

Aria’s POVNobody moved after Damien walked into my apartment. The silence that followed felt heavy enough to choke the room. Adrian stood near the center of the living room, tension written across his face. Bianca leaned against the dining table, her expression calm in a way that unsettled me. And Damien remained near the door, composed, as though he belonged there more than any of us did. I hated how quickly the atmosphere shifted because of him. It wasn’t louder or chaotic. It was sharper, more dangerous, as if the air itself had changed. Damien closed the door behind him slowly before lifting his eyes to me. For one brief second, everything else disappeared—the pressure, the confusion, Adrian standing only a few feet away. None of it mattered under the weight of Damien’s stare. Then Adrian spoke. “You’ve got nerve showing up here.” Damien finally looked away from me. “I could say the same about you.” His tone stayed calm, but the words landed hard. Adrian let out a dry laugh

Aria’s POVThe knock on my door didn’t feel like a normal knock.It was sharp. Controlled. Familiar in the worst way.I already knew who it was before I even moved.Adrian.He never waited when he wanted answers.Bianca stood a few steps behind me in the living room, completely calm, like she had been expecting this moment all along.“Don’t open it yet,” she said softly.I turned slightly toward her.“This is my apartment,” I replied.A faint smile touched her lips.“And he is your fiancé,” she said. “That means he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.”The knock came again.Stronger this time.“Aria. Open the door,” Adrian’s voice called through it.My chest tightened, not from fear, but from frustration.Because this wasn’t how I imagined my life ending up.Not standing in my own home, choosing between silence and confrontation.I walked to the door anyway.Bianca didn’t stop me.She just watched.When I opened it, Adrian stepped inside immediately.No greeting.No hesitation.His

Aria’s POVThe call ended, but I still stood there holding my phone as though it might explain what had just happened. Damien’s voice lingered in my mind longer than it should have. You’re standing in a lie right now. I didn’t understand what he meant, not fully, but I understood enough to feel unsettled. His words carried weight, and that weight pressed against me even after the line went silent.I lowered the phone slowly and turned back into the room. Adrian was still watching me. His expression wasn’t openly aggressive, nor was it soft. It was observant, deliberate, the kind of look that made me feel as though he was waiting for me to reveal something I hadn’t said yet. “Who was it?” he asked again. This time his tone was quieter, more controlled, as if he wanted to keep the conversation contained within boundaries only he could define.I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Wrong number,” I said. The lie came out easily, too easily, and that unsettled me even more. Adrian didn’t resp

Aria’s POVI stood outside my apartment door for several seconds without moving. My hand rested on the handle, but my body felt heavier than usual, as though something inside me already knew what was waiting on the other side. Adrian was inside. I could feel it before I even saw him. Not physically, but in the way my chest tightened when I thought of him sitting there, pretending nothing had happened, pretending last night didn’t exist.I inhaled slowly and pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, I saw him. Adrian, He was sitting on the sofa like he belonged there, like he had been waiting for me for a long time. His suit jacket was folded neatly beside him, his shirt loosened slightly at the collar. His expression was calm, his posture controlled. Too calm. That was what made my stomach tighten, because Adrian only looked like that when he was trying to manage a situation.He stood immediately when he saw me. “Aria,” he said, as if my name alone was enough to reset everyth

Aria’s POVI woke slowly, as if my body was resisting the idea of returning to reality. My head felt heavy, my thoughts scattered into fragments that refused to settle. The room around me was unfamiliar, too quiet, too refined to belong to my life. A white ceiling stretched above me, soft lighting glowed from hidden fixtures, and the faint scent of something expensive and clean lingered in the air. It was not my apartment. It was not my bed. The realization settled in my chest with a weight that brought confusion and unease.I turned my head slightly, and froze. Damien Blackwell was still there. He stood near the window, his posture steady, his presence commanding even in silence. He wasn’t pacing or showing signs of urgency. He simply existed in controlled stillness, like a man who owned time instead of chasing it. Even without words, he radiated power. There was something dangerously composed about him, something that made the air feel thinner.I pushed myself up, my voice rough as