DamonI bring Ava to my home after our agreement and we spend hours going through the process of making her as presentable as possible.“You need to make all of this as believable as possible, alright?” I emphasize as I make Aria go over thousands of different outfits.“Why is this so important anyway? I mean, why are you so hell-bent on getting married so soon? And why me?” Ava grumbles.She looks exhausted from having to try on a million different outfits.I have a few women come over to the house, bringing rack after rack of expensive outfits.I'm sure she has no idea how much they cost me.“You need to look the part,” I emphasize.I’m getting tired of dealing with her unending questions. But I know she's my best bet to get Father off my back.It will undoubtedly give me the much-needed time to focus solely on the company and keep the sales numbers at the top.I still can't understand why, all of a sudden, the paparazzi’s focus has shifted from my sales numbers and stock prices to m
DamonIt was time for dinner, and as usual, every single one in the family was seated around the large dining table. Usually, I would avoid our family dinner and just hook myself up with a quiet meal, after which I would retire to my office. But today, especially with the events of the day before, I was certain that I wasn’t getting any peace.Unfortunately for them, though, I'm prepared for every one of them tonight.Knowing my mum, I bet she was on the brink of announcing that I would be bringing home a wife soon.I'll soon be married. It all still feels new and unreal, but weirdly, I'm not put off in any way. I had always dreaded marriage- real or fake, but for some reason, there was a sense of calm in me. I slowly make my way over to the dining table, and as usual, I take my seat directly opposite my mother. Strangely, they wait for all the seats to be filled. We've always, always been a one-man squad type of family. We'd come in, exchange very curt pleasantries, eat together o
DamonThe dining remained quiet for a while as the sound of cutlery clinking on porcelain filled the atmosphere.“So, Damon…” Father starts, his voice towering over the loud sound of the cutlery. I suck my breath in, releasing an audible sigh.He has only just arrived. It wouldn't be bad to give Damon a break. He's just like the rest of them.Birds of a feather.“Yes, father,” I answer, raising my head to look at him. “Your mother just told me you’ve found a lady you intend to wed,” He said. In an instant, all eyes were on me. Grace and her minions stare in shock with their faces laced in utter disbelief.“Yes, father. I have,” I answer flatly, bringing food to my mouth. I notice my plate is almost empty and reach out for more. “That’s right. Our son is about to get married,” Mother chips in with a triumphant smile.She was beaming, her pride visible in the way that she sat straight in her chair and adjusted her sequined dress.I shake my head softly.She always enjoyed being the
AriaThe days that followed were filled with a lot of modifications.“You need to look the part,” Damon would often remind me. It was upsetting, to say the least.“It’s either you suck it up and stop whining, or I can simply make the rest of your life a living hell, Aria,” he warned with a knowing smirk.I mentally applauded myself for having kept it together for this long.“Stop asking me silly questions and just do as I say.”Oh, how he could be insufferable.I was utterly exhausted by him. Yet, despite my efforts, there was nothing I could do to change my situation — no matter what I did or said, Damon was convinced I was someone else.Speaking of which, I still found it peculiar and somewhat suspicious that she never mentioned she was a twin, nor did she ever introduce him to me, or vice versa.Today, however, was different. For the first time, we were going out.Damon had arrived earlier with an entourage of stylists and makeup artists.He had arranged for me to be dressed accord
AriaAs the last words leave Damon’s mouth, I break into a bright smile.Action.“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” I say, extending my hand for a handshake. “Nonsense. What, ma’am?" She says in a warm tone.Like a robot on autopilot, the smile remains plastered on my face."Sweetie, I’m not that old, I promise. Please call me Josephine or whatever you feel comfortable with."This time, a genuine giggle escapes me. At least someone’s making this easy for me. "You can call me anything but ma’am.” She waves her hands dismissively before I find myself engulfed in the warmth of her embrace. I keep my hands to my sides, unsure of what to do with them.An instant sense of security settles over me, unexpected but welcome.She feels soft and warm. I peer over at Damon from over her shoulders, meeting his unreadable expression. My eyes gesture at him in confusion as if to say Is this normal? I expected her to be stuck up, like the wealthy women in movies. I had mentally prepared myself f
DamonShe was such a natural.At lying, that is.I sat down, watching how she so easily lied to my mother, the words flowing out so easily from her lips as they chatted away.I watched as Mother ate up every single word she said without a doubt, falling deep into her charm.One down, next up was the proposal and family dinner.Everything had to be perfect.I would say like her, but the memory of the betrayal slaps me back to reality.She was beautiful, in an almost unbelievable way. She had a grace to her that was evident in the way she sat and conversed with my mother, a feat that very few women and men could achieve.Mother had a way of reading people and had always been very judgmental of the people who came around me. This was not the case here, not in any way. It was, in fact, the opposite.She welcomed her in a way I had never seen, which I noticed came as a surprise to Aria..Ava as well. I watched her go from uncertain to calm, before finally relaxing into their conversation.
Damon “You know you didn’t have to go haywire on her like that,” Kingsley's voice, always my much-needed moral compass, resonates through the hallway as we make our way out of the building. He's always called himself my lost conscience.“She's a fraud and needs to be taught a lesson," I say. I had just shipped Ava home with the guards. "Come on. I wouldn’t say that of her," he says. "Well, you know nobody gets away with playing funny games with Damon Stone,” I say, refusing to see things his way. "Well, that’s-" "She can’t eat her cake and have it, Kingsley. She owes me, big time, and you know this," I continue, cutting him off. There’s no way I would believe she wasn’t Ava - not in this life, not in the next. Not after she played with my head and heart, and left me high and dry. I’ll make sure she pays for the damages. “Don’t you think there’s a slim chance she isn’t Ava as she says and is her twin sister?" "What trash are you spewing, Kingsley? Don’t you know who Ava i
Aria If there was a way I could claw my fingers into that smug face of Damon’s, I’d do that in a heartbeat. I've lost count of the number of nights I've lain awake, tossing and turning, in deep thoughts of the best way to gather any information about the whereabouts of my parents and Ava. Somehow, I feel even more trapped in “my” apartment, especially with the number of men standing guard on the other side of my bedroom door, and the countless CCTV cameras. How Ava put me in this mess in her absence is beyond my understanding. She had always been trouble, and this was the umpteenth time I was suffering for her wrongdoings. It happened every other day, as we were very similar. One time, I narrowly escaped being raped by her boyfriend – he could have sworn I was Ava. From a distance, you’d never guess the contrast in our personalities. She has a lot of explaining to do. Does she even think of me? Are my parents somewhere out there, actively searching for me the way I search for th
AriaThe moment Damon walks toward the balcony, I shift on the stool by the kitchen island and just sit there, watching his retreating figure disappear behind the glass. He slides the door shut behind him and vanishes into the skyline, just like he always does when things get a little too real.There’s a whole woman outside, dressed like she walked out of a damn catalog, and he has nothing to say to me. I didn't ask what that was. I didn’t ask who she was. A part of me already knows. Or at least, knows enough to not want to dig further.I sit back down on the stool by the kitchen island and let my body lean forward. Elbows on the counter, cheek resting against the cold marble. I don’t have the strength to overthink this right now. I’m still a little weak, still running a slight fever, and stress is the last thing I need to add to the mix.I check my phone. One minute passes. Then two. Then three. I feel the pressure build up inside me, but I fight it off. I won’t spiral. Not today. No
Damon The walk to the elevator takes forever.The moment the elevator doors shut behind us, I press the button for the ground floor. I don't say a word. Just watch the numbers blink slowly on the screen.Then she speaks."I'm stressed already, Mr. Stone."I don’t respond. Not immediately. My jaw clenches, and my hands form a fist by my side.Can I get a damn minute to think? One minute without someone poking and triggering me?I exhale slowly through my nose. "I’ll pay you double whatever Kingsley promised if you just shut the fuck up. For the most part. In fact, zip it till I need you."She blinks, then shrugs. "Fairs."The elevator continues its crawl to the lobby like it's dragging its feet on purpose. I slip out my phone and dial Kingsley. He doesn’t pick up.Of course.Perfect timing to go ghost after throwing a grenade unto my laps.I tap my foot against the floor, jaw tight, hand dragging through my hair. The silence is suffocating, but I need it. My head’s still spinning from
DamonThe morning light creeps through the curtains in gold slivers, cutting across the bed in quiet streaks. I’m already awake. Have been for a while. Not that I slept much. My arm's numb, pinned awkwardly under A. She’s curled into me, still shivering occasionally despite the layers of warmth.I glance down. Her face is softer in sleep. There's no walls. No snark. Just silence and breath.She stirs a little, her fingers twitching against my side, and I freeze for a second, not wanting to wake her. Then again, she’s not the type to stay still for long. Sure enough, she shifts again, and I feel her body tense slightly as her lashes flutter open.She tries to blink past the light, squinting. Then she flinches and squeezes her eyes shut again. It takes a minute before she tries again, turning slowly to peek in my direction. I keep my eyes closed. Not ready to deal with whatever this moment could become. Not ready for the questions her face might be holding.But I feel her gaze. Not flee
AriaMorning hits slow, like it’s apologizing for showing up. I don’t even know what time it is, but the light filtering through the sheer curtains feels too aggressive for my eyes. I blink once, twice, and then just give up and shut them again. My body still aches, but not as badly as yesterday. That has to count for something.Something shifts behind me.And I remember.Damon.I try not to make a big deal of it in my head, but it’s not every day the man who treats you like an inconvenient accessory suddenly starts acting like... this. Whatever this is.Carefully, I turn just enough to peek at him over my shoulder. He’s still. On his side, facing me. His eyes are closed, lashes dark against his skin. His jaw looks less tense in sleep, the sharp edge of his cheekbones softened by the early light. It’s unfair how good he looks when he’s not being a jackass. Even now, with my heart still bruised from the emotional whiplash he put me through, I catch myself staring.God, I hate him. And
AriaI don't have it in me to argue with him anymore.The moment he blocks the door and tells me I can't leave, I just stand there for a heartbeat, feeling his eyes on me like a weight I can't shake off. And then I turn around, walk back to the bed, and fall into it like my bones are made of glass.No retort. No clapback. No eye roll. Just quiet.Because honestly? I'm too damn tired.My body feels like it’s folding in on itself. Every breath feels like it’s asking for too much. My muscles ache in that dull, warning-sign way. The fever's probably creeping back up. And as much as I’d love to throw something at him, shout, or kick the door down just to feel something other than this exhaustion... I can’t. I simply can’t.So I do the only thing I can do in this moment. I sleep.---Night creeps in like a fog, slow and thick, and I’m barely aware of time passing. The ceiling is a blur. The hum of the city feels like it’s coming from underwater. I’m shivering so hard my teeth are lightly cl
DamonI should've kept my damn mouth shut.The second the words left, I knew I'd screwed up. They were supposed to stay in my head—that fleeting thought, that one stupid line that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But hearing them aloud, raw and unfiltered, made it worse.Wrapped around your finger?Jesus. Damon.I don’t even wait for her reaction. I hear the confusion in her voice, the sharp little sting behind her words: "What the hell does that mean?"And I do the next best thing. I walk away.Because there's no comeback, no retort, and no sarcastic deflection that'll save me from this one. I head for the mini kitchen and drop myself on one of the bar stools like gravity just doubled. My elbows hit the counter and I rub my temples, trying to get my head back.What the hell was that, Damon? Seriously.I pull out my phone, desperate for a distraction, and of course Kingsley's text is waiting:Two things. Home front is secure now. If you feel like returning. Also, Gina will be there
AriaI’m back in bed, curled under the duvet, and for a second, I let the warmth trick me into thinking everything’s fine. That I’m just tired, not emotionally frayed. That my body doesn’t feel like it’s been hit by a train, and my mind isn’t spinning with questions I’ve long stopped asking out loud.Then I hear his footsteps.Damon’s slow, unhurried steps, like he’s taking his time to think through what he’ll say. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders relaxed but not lazy. He stops by my side of the bed, close enough to feel the pressure of his presence even without looking up.“You should shower,” he says.I turn my head toward him, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m weak. I will... soon.”He doesn’t budge. “Someone’s coming to check you out. You’ll want to be cleaned up by the time they get here.”I sigh, eyes still closed. Maybe if I ignore him long enough, he’ll walk away.“You want me to help?” he asks, voice flat, not teasing or flirty—just serious. Serious enough that I open m
AriaI keep my back to him, curled under the duvet, but my mind's already far from here.He's obviously just running. From the truth. From everything. And maybe from me too.I’ve never even been alike with Ava. Not really. Identical? Sure. Uncannily. The type that makes people double-take and question their own eyes. But alike? Never. Anyone who’s ever spent more than five minutes with both of us could tell the difference. Personality doesn’t lie. Presence doesn’t either. Ava used to suck the air out of the room. I’ve always tried to fill it quietly. She walked in like she owned the place; I walk in hoping nobody notices.But here he is. A man who’s seen both of us up close. Still choosing to lie to himself instead. And I’m done arguing. Done trying to correct someone who clearly finds comfort in the version of the story that causes the least discomfort. For him, anyway.The sound of Damon’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He’s on the phone. Probably Kingsley. It’s always Kingsley.H
Damon"Damon?"Her voice is barely there. A whisper, like it’s unsure if it even wants to exist. But it stops me in my tracks.I freeze on the balcony, hand still clutching the phone, Kingsley’s last words still hanging in the air like static. My pulse jumps, but I don’t turn immediately. I wait a beat, listening for more, for confirmation, for anything that’ll tell me if she heard what I just said. About Gina. About my need to reset. About punishing myself for dragging her into this mess.I finally turn, slow, controlled, like I’m disarming a live wire.She’s at the door, blinking, swaying a little, her fingers clutching the door frame like she’s not quite sure how she got there. Eyes half-lidded, skin flushed, and still bundled in the same hoodie and sweats she passed out in. And just like that, I know—she didn’t hear a thing. Not a damn word.Relief floods through me, sharp and sudden.I step toward her immediately, crossing the space between us in three long strides. “What are you