MasukSARAH (Maid of honor)
The rain pounded on the roof of my car like bullets. I checked the dashboard clock. 10:15 AM. I was late. We were incredibly late. I parked in my mother’s driveway and honked the horn. Twice. Long and loud. "Come on, Mom," I muttered, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. "Elara is going to kill us. We still need to get to the church." No answer. The front door of the house remained closed. The curtains didn't move. I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. Ring. Ring. Ring. I could hear the faint sound of her ringtone coming from inside the house. She wasn't picking up. " seriously?" I groaned, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Mom, if you are still looking for those earrings, I am going to scream." I grabbed my umbrella and ran through the downpour to the front porch. I didn't even knock. I used my spare key and shoved the door open. "Mom! We have to go! The wedding started fifteen minutes ago!" Silence. The house was too quiet. The TV wasn't on. The smell of my mother’s morning coffee was there, but something underneath it smelled wrong. It smelled like sweat. Like men's cologne. "Mom?" I walked into the living room. My heart stopped beating. My umbrella fell from my hand, clattering loudly on the hardwood floor. My mother was there. But she wasn't looking for earrings. She was tied to her favorite armchair with thick plastic zip ties. Her wrists were bound so tight the skin was turning purple. A strip of silver duct tape covered her mouth. Her eyes were wide, filled with tears and absolute terror. "Mmph! Mmph!" she screamed behind the tape, shaking her head frantically. Run. She was telling me to run. I couldn't move. My feet were glued to the floor. "Hello, Sarah." A man stepped out from the hallway shadows. He was holding a baseball bat, tapping it casually against his palm. I knew him. I knew his face, his messy hair, his arrogant smile. It was Jason. Elara’s first love. Ex-Boyfriend Number One. The high school sweetheart who broke her heart seven years ago. "Jason?" I whispered, my brain struggling to process this. "What... What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in California." Two other men stepped out from the kitchen. They were big, silent, and wearing masks. They stood behind my mother, hands on her shoulders. Jason laughed. He walked closer to me, swinging the bat. "I came back for the wedding, obviously. I couldn't miss the big day." "Let her go," I said, my voice shaking. "Jason, look at me. This is insane. That is an old woman. Let her go!" "I can't do that, Sarah," Jason said, his eyes cold. "You see, you’re the problem. You’re the 'loyal best friend.' You’re the one who would call the cops if Elara went missing. So, I had to make sure you stayed busy." "Missing?" I stepped back. "What did you do to Elara?" "Me? Nothing. I’m just the babysitter," Jason smirked. "Mark did." "Mark?" I frowned. "Mark loves her. He’s marrying her right now." Jason started to laugh. It was a cruel, ugly sound. "Oh, Sarah. You really are naive. Do you think a guy like Mark—a guy with no money, no connections, and a fake degree—just happened to bump into Elara at a coffee shop?" He leaned in close, so close I could smell the stale alcohol on his breath. The world tilted. I grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling. "What?" "Yes, you heard right," Jason explained, enjoying my shock. "See, I messed up with Elara back in the day. I let a gold mine slip through my fingers. I was young and stupid. But when I saw she was single again after kicking out that loser Jax... I knew I couldn't go back. She hates me." He shrugged. "But she didn't know Mark. So, I sent him. I coached him. I told him exactly what she wanted to hear. 'Be humble, Mark.' 'Don't ask for money, Mark.' 'Let her build you up, Mark.'" Tears blurred my vision. It was all a lie. The last two years. The romance. The engagement. It was a script written by her toxic ex. "She trusted him," I whispered, feeling sick. "She finally felt safe." "And that’s why it worked," Jason grinned. "She signed everything over to him. The company. The accounts. Everything. Today, they stripped her clean. And tomorrow? Mark is a rich guy." "No..." I gasped. "You’re going to kill her?" "Loose ends, Sarah. Loose ends." I turned to run. I had to get to the church. I had to warn her. "Ah!" Jason shouted. "Don't move!" One of the masked men grabbed my mother’s hair and yanked her head back. He pulled out a knife and pressed it against her throat. My mother whimpered, tears streaming down her face. "Take one step out that door," Jason said, his voice dropping to a growl, "and he slits her throat. Right in front of you." I froze. I looked at my mother. I looked at the knife digging into her soft skin. A tiny drop of blood welled up. "Please," I sobbed, raising my hands. "Jason, please don't do this. We've known each other for years. Remember when Elara and will go for dinner!" "That was a long time ago," Jason spat. "I need this money, Sarah. Mark promised me forty percent. I’m not letting you ruin my payday." He pointed the bat at me. "Here are the rules. You sit on that couch. You don't call anyone. You don't text anyone. You wait until 1:00 PM. By then, Elara will be... gone. And Mark will be on a plane with his lawfully wedded for their honeymoon." "I can't just let her die!" I screamed. "Then your mom dies!" Jason roared. He nodded to the man with the knife. The man pressed harder. My mother squeezed her eyes shut, shaking violently. "CHOOSE!" Jason yelled at me. "Choose right now! Your best friend or your mother! Who dies today, Sarah?" I looked at my mom. She was everything to me. She was the only family I had left. Then I thought of Elara. Waiting at the altar. Thinking I was coming. Thinking Mark loved her. I felt my heart break into two pieces. I dropped to my knees. "Don't hurt my mom," I whispered, defeat crushing me. "Please... don't hurt my mom." Jason smiled. It was the smile of a winner. "Good choice." He walked over and kicked the door shut. He locked it. "Sit down, Sarah," he said, pointing to the sofa opposite my bound mother. "We have a long wait. Why don't you watch the clock and count the minutes left of your best friend's life?" “Where is Elara?” I whispered. Jason checked his watch and smiled. “By now?” He shrugged. “She should be dead.”ARIA"Aria!"Mark called my name again, his voice filled with impatience.I was sweating deep down, my silk dress suddenly feeling like a cage. I should have listened to Maya. I shouldn't be here, alone, with the same man who tried to murder me.I turned around slowly, trying to look normal while I was fidgeting on the inside. I forced a calm mask over my panic."Yes, Mark?" I answered, my voice steady."Come check the liquid assets," Mark said, gesturing to the coffee table. "You gave your word. You said if you saw five million in there, you would sign the check right now. Well, come look."I walked over, my legs feeling heavy. Mark brought the laptop closer, tilting the screen toward me so the blue light illuminated my face."We have more than five million dollars there," he said, a smug grin playing on his lips.He opened the Cayman accounts. I leaned in, expecting to see a zero, or maybe a few hundred thousand. I expected to catch him in a lie.Instead, I saw the number.$8,250,00
ARIA The elevator ride to the 90th floor took exactly forty-five seconds. I knew because I used to count them.I used to count them with excitement, my stomach fluttering as I rushed home to tell Mark about my day. Now, I counted them to keep my heart from exploding in my chest.Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five.The doors slid open with a soft chime.I stepped into the private foyer of the penthouse. My penthouse.The air smelled of lemon verbena and beeswax—the same cleaning products I had mandated three years ago. Nothing had changed.I reached for the keypad on the wall to announce my arrival. My fingers hovered over the numbers 0-7-2-2—my father’s birthday. Muscle memory almost betrayed me. I almost punched in the access code that would have opened the door and revealed that I knew this house better than any stranger should.I snatched my hand back just in time.You are a guest, I reminded myself, my breath hitching. You don't know the code. You ring the bell.I pressed the b
MARK The elevator door to my penthouse slid open with a soft ding, revealing the sprawling luxury of the penthouse at 432 Park Avenue.I stepped inside, loosening my tie with one hand while tossing my keys onto the marble console table with the other. The silence of the apartment was a blessing after the chaos of the gala."God," I breathed out, walking straight to the wet bar. "I love the smell of money."I didn't bother with a glass. I grabbed the bottle of Macallan 25—Elara’s father’s collection, which I had happily inherited—and took a long swig. The burn down my throat was magnificent. It tasted like victory.For the last three months, I had been suffocating. The auditors were circling like sharks, the offshore accounts were bleeding dry, and I was losing sleep wondering which one of my lies was going to collapse first. I had been praying for a miracle and tonight, she had walked right through the front door wearing a red dress."Twenty-five million," I said aloud, testing the
ARIA The red dot on the tablet screen pulsed like a warning heartbeat. Blink. Blink. Blink."Maya!" I shouted at the screen, my composure cracking. "Shut it down! They're bypassing the firewall!""I'm trying!" Maya’s voice was tight with panic, the sound of her fingers flying across her mechanical keyboard echoing through the speakers. "This isn't a standard trace, Aria. This is military-grade decryption. Whoever this is, they aren't looking for money. They're looking for you."I watched the progress bar on the screen. 78%... 82%...If it hit 100%, they would have everything. My real birth certificate. The hospital records from the burn unit. The photos of my face before the surgery.They would know that Aria was Elara, and I would be dead before sunrise."Cut the server," I ordered, my voice turning to ice. "Kill the whole system if you have to.""And lose three years of data?""Lose the data or lose my life, Maya! Do it!"95%...The screen went black.For a terrifying second, th
ARIA The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off Zane’s exit, but her words hung in the stale air of the VIP lounge like toxic smoke.“It gets buried.”My blood turned to ice. I sat frozen on the leather sofa, my hand gripping the crystal water glass so hard I thought it might shatter in my palm. My heart was hammering a frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs.Zane wasn't just a jealous wife throwing a tantrum. She was a co-conspirator. She knew about fire that erased everything. She knew exactly what kind of monster Mark Miller was because she had helped him sharpen his claws.I looked at Mark.I expected to see guilt. I expected to see the fear of a man whose secrets were spilling out.Instead, I saw him sigh. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the spot where he had spilled his scotch on his trousers. He looked annoyed, like a man whose dog had just ruined an expensive rug."I apologize for that," Mark said, his voice smooth and dismissive. "Zane is... p
ARIA“Have we met before?” The question hung in the air between us, heavy and dangerous.For a split second, the sounds of the ballroom—the clinking glasses, the polite laughter, the string quartet—faded into a dull roar. The only thing I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.My heart slammed against my ribs. I looked into Mark’s eyes, searching for a sign that he actually saw me. That he saw Elara Vance, the woman he had pledged his life to. That he saw the ghost of the girl he murdered.He knows.The thought screamed in my mind, cold and sharp. The surgery wasn’t enough. He sees the eyes and the fear. He’s going to call security, and they’re going to drag me away.I almost pulled my hand back. I almost took a step away. The urge to run was so strong it made my knees weak.But then, I saw it.I saw the way his eyes darted to the diamond necklace around my neck. I saw the way his thumb brushed against the expensive fabric of my dress.He didn’t see a ghost. He saw a goldmine.







