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Chapter 28
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2025-12-17 00:01:00The costume landed at Aria’s feet with a heavy, dusty thud.
“Put it on,” Cassandra commanded. “And don’t complain. It’s vintage.”Aria looked down at the pile of fabric on the floor of the penthouse guest room. It wasn’t a ballgown. It wasn’t silk or satin or lace. It was a heavy, shapeless cloak made of gray velvet that looked like it had been cut from a theater curtain in the 19th century. Beside it lay a mask—a plain, featureless white porcelain half-mask that covered the eyes and nose, devoid of glitter, feathers, or expression.“It looks like a shroud,” Aria whispered, picking up the heavy velvet.“It’s a Domino,” Cassandra corrected, applying a layer of gold shimmer to her collarbones. “Very Venetian. Very mysterious. And most importantly, it blends in with the drapes.”She turned from the mirror, her eyes critical and cold.“Tonight is my twenty-ninth birthday, Aria. It is a Masquerade. The theme is ‘Gilded Age Decadence.’
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Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 44
The air in sub-basement Level B4 was always five degrees cooler than the rest of the building, a stagnant, artificial chill that seemed to seep directly into Aria’s bones. She sat at her small metal desk, her hands moving with a repetitive, mindless rhythm as she sorted through a crate of uncatalogued legal correspondences from the mid-nineties.The dust was thick, a gray film that coated her skin and the high collar of her knit top, but it was the only thing that felt real.The silence of the archives was no longer a sanctuary. After the dinner at the Hale estate the night before, the quiet felt like a trap. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sharp, predatory look in Cassandra’s eyes when she’d commented on Aria being “flushed.” She could still feel the weight of Damian’s gaze from the other end of the mahogany table a silent, heavy pressure that told her he was watching her hide in plain sight.Aria looked at the clock on the wall. 10:15 AM.She had been in the basement for
Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 43
Aria woke before the sun reached the windows of Unit 40B. The apartment was silent, the kind of heavy, pressurized quiet that made the sound of her own breathing feel too loud. She didn’t move for a long time, lying flat on her back with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, anchored to the mattress by a dull, persistent ache that she couldn’t attribute to physical labor alone.It was a phantom weight, the lingering sensation of the day before—the heat of Damian’s lap, the pressure of his hands on her ribs, and the brutal, unfinished intimacy in the study. She turned onto her side, pulling the duvet tighter around her shoulders, but the friction of the fabric against her skin only made the restlessness worse. Her skin felt sensitized, as if he had peeled away a layer of her armor and left her exposed to the air.She hated the way her mind replayed it. She hated the way her pulse jumped when she remembered the sound of his voice on the phone while he touched her, calm and
Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 42
The call came at 10:47 AM.Aria was in the basement archives, her hands gray with dust from organizing a decade-old shipping manifest, when her phone buzzed against the metal desk. The screen glowed in the dim fluorescent light.Executive Office.She stared at it for three rings before answering.“Miss Hale,” Sarah’s crisp voice said. “Mr. Cross requires your presence in his study. Immediately.”“I’m in the middle of—”“Immediately, Miss Hale.”The line went dead.Aria looked at the open boxes surrounding her desk, the half-catalogued files, the dust coating her fingertips. Her stomach tightened into a fist. He hadn’t summoned her since the lobby. Since he’d touched her spine in front of his executives and made her realize that nowhere was safe.She stood up, her legs unsteady.The ride to the penthouse felt like an ascent to execution.The penthouse was silent when she arrived.No lilies today. The air was clean, sterile, and cold. Aria walked through the foyer, her footsteps muffled
Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 41
The humidity in the B3 sub-basement was a physical weight. It didn’t matter that the level was fifty feet underground; the June heat had a way of seeping through the concrete, turning the stagnant air into a thick, airless soup. Aria sat at her desk, the back of her light cotton blouse clinging to her skin. The single desk fan she’d found in a storage closet was doing nothing but pushing the warm, dusty air in a slow, rhythmic circle.She reached up to wipe a bead of sweat from her temple, her fingers leaving a gray smudge of dust on her forehead. The 1982 audit reports for the Cross-Vance merger were finally organized, a mountain of yellowed paper that smelled of old glue and decay. Every time she turned a page, the dry paper rasped against her fingertips, a sound that seemed to echo in the cavernous silence of the archives.She felt a tremor in her hands. It wasn’t just the fatigue from the long hours; it was the hollow, vibrating emptiness in her stomach. She hadn’t been able to ea
Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 40
The air in the sub-basement didn’t move. It sat heavy and stagnant, smelling of silverfish, rotting adhesive, and the dry, alkaline sting of paper that hadn’t been touched in three decades. Aria sat at her desk, her spine curved into a question mark, staring at a stack of ledger books from the mid-seventies. The overhead lights hummed a jagged, electrical sound that vibrated inside her skull. She felt the weight of the building above her. Thousands of tons of steel, glass, and concrete pressing down on the B3 level, sealing her into the earth. She was buried. Aria reached for a box of paper clips, but her fingers stopped. She looked at her hand. It was pale, the skin stretched tight over her knuckles. She looked at her wrist. The heavy steel watch Damian had forced on her was there, its metal band cold against her skin. It was too loose. It slid down, the weight of the face resting against the back of her hand like a shackle. She hadn’t seen him since he walked out of her small of
Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband Chapter 39
The drill sat on the gray rug like a dead insect. Aria stared at it from the edge of the bed. Her hands were raw. The skin on her palms had blistered where she’d gripped the plastic handle too tight, forcing the metal bit into the heavy oak of the door. The industrial deadbolt was in place now. It was a block of brushed steel, thick and ugly, sitting right above the electronic lock that Damian controlled from his phone fifty floors up. He had sent the tools. He had told her to install it. Lock the door, he had said. If I come back down here tonight… I won’t be so merciful. Aria shifted, and a sharp spike of soreness shot through her hips. She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling the duvet tighter. The fabric was rough against her skin, but the cold air of the apartment was worse. The central air was humming, a low, mechanical drone that never stopped, pumping sterile, scentless air into her lungs. She felt used. Not in the way a woman feels used after a bad date, but in the way a tool fe
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