Chapter 7: The Burn of Denial

Adrian’s Pov

I didn't like these events. I hated them. Especially the fairness that came with it. The fake laughter, fake pleasantries, and fake cordiality between the guests made me wish I were somewhere else.

Everyone was dressed to kill. Drenched in money from their designer dresses to their jewelry and heavy makeup ups which was a way to hide their ugliness.

People use situations like this to sweet-talk potential investors and bag deals. I'm one of them but I'm only here for the sake of appearances.

My family is well-known and powerful and I need to show up for things like these. I don't even remember what it's for.

I arrived fashionably late and immediately bumped into Mrs Fray, the mayor’s wife. She was always so sweet towards me on all the occasions we met.

“Have you seen the young lady behind the Skyline museum? I must say she's every man’s dream. So elegant and charming,” she says.

‘Not mine though,’ I thought to myself. My dream woman died five years ago and I don't dream about other women.

“I think you should invest or donate in future projects. What do you think?” she suggests and I smile.

“I’ll look into it,” I tell her. When I heard about the Skyline project, I tried to invest but I was turned down. It was a surprise but I would never beg someone to take my money. Turns out the lady was here today. At least I get to see who dared to turn down an investment.

“Excuse me, Mrs Fray,” I say as I kiss her cheek.

“Sure, dear. It's always good to see you,” she pats my face. “I think you'll like this one.” She walks away. Not waiting for my reply.

I already know what she’s talking about but I don’t want to talk about that. I'm not looking forward to anything with anybody. 

After making small conversations with some partners and other people seeking favors, I make my way to the bar and order a whiskey. I can feel someone looking at me. Like someone was silently whispering my name and willing me to turn.

I don't. Thinking if I look at them, they'll take it as an invitation to approach me. I wasn't interested in talking.

The feeling grew stronger and the hairs behind my neck stood. This was different. Just when I finally decide to turn and see who is burning holes at the back of my neck, the lady turns away.

But I don't. Something about her appears familiar. It is when I look at her closely that all the oxygen leaves my lungs, and blood leaves my face. Is that a ghost? My emotions move from confusion to shock to denial to questions. Everything is going through me like a roller coaster.

No. It couldn't be. It couldn't be my Zara. She died and I saw the burnt car and her bracelet. 

The lady I was looking at had brown hair. Her eyes were not green like Zara’s. But something moved inside me.

She wraps up her interview and starts walking to the door but someone crashes into her.

I hurry towards her, avoiding all the people trying to get my attention. “Zara?”

She didn't turn. She was shaking the drink off her dress while the man apologized.

“I'm sorry. I didn't see you,” the man says.

“It's okay. I didn't see you either.”

My heart leaps as I walk in front of her.

“Zara?” My voice was rough and shaky.

I see her freeze for a moment before looking at me like I am a stranger.

“Aria. Not Zara.” She looks at me like I'm just another person impressed by her work.

“Don’t do that. I know it's you.” She changed the colour of her hair but everything tells me it's her.

“Excuse me, do I know you? Have we met before?” She leans her head to the side. “I think you've made a mistake. I'm not Zara. I'm Aria Sterling.”

The words slice me like a knife to my chest. That's a lie. She is Zara, my Zara. The false name upset me. Why is she trying to change who she is?

“Why are you denying it? I know you like the back of my hand. Like I know myself. So don't lie to me,” I was losing it and I don't care. “How come you're alive? I saw the burnt car. I found your bracelet and I buried you.”

I see pain flash over her face but it is gone so quickly that I think I imagined it.

“That sounds heartbreaking but I'm not your Zara.”

“It's you. You can try to change everything but I'll always recognize you. Tell me the truth. What happened,” My voice is filled with so much emotion.

She laughs but nothing is funny. “It seems you have been drinking? You should drink less if it makes you act like this. I just told you that I'm not Zara or whoever you think I am.”

‘If you're trying to punish me, I'll accept it. I deserve it. But don't stand here and lie to my face. Stop pretending,” I say as I step closer to her but she steps back.

“Punishment? I really don't know you, mister. Don't create a scene.”

I'll give it to her. She is really good at acting clueless. The confusion and frown on her face would have anyone believe her. Not me though. I know my eyes are not deceiving me.

Before I can utter another word, a man steps out from nowhere and moves close to her.

“Aria. Is everything alright?" he asks while sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her to his side. 

Damien Blackwood. A name spoken in whispers and shadows. One I never want to associate myself with. I always sense something shady about him but I can't tell for sure.

“Do you know him?” he asks.

My body grows stiff and my fists clench. Why is he touching my wife and why is she letting him put his hands on her? She makes no effort to move away from him and that fuels the anger that is already burning in me.

“Why the hell are you touching my wife?” I blurt out before I realize people must think I'm crazy.

Zara… Aria's mouth opens and closes in shock but Damien just smiles. He must think I'm out of my mind.

“Your wife?” he asks.