LOGINAria’s P.O.VThe few days following the incident at the bar were a blur of soft sheets, warm tea, and Damien’s constant, hovering presence. He treated me as if I were made of the finest, most fragile porcelain, his touch light and his voice a low, soothing hum that seemed to anchor me to the earth.I felt the trauma receding, replaced by a deep, aching gratitude, but there was still a lingering knot of anxiety in my stomach.It wasn't about Steven—he was behind bars, and the thought of him now felt like a distant, bad dream.It was about the woman in the golden dress. Even though Damien had clarified that Alexandra was his sister, the image of her—poised, elegant, and effortlessly commanding—still haunted me.In my mind, I had already built a version of her: a strict, disciplined matriarch of the family who would look at me, a simple secretary with a fractured past, and see nothing but a mistake.So, when Damien told me he had arranged for me to meet Alexandra for lunch at a quiet, up
Aria’s P.O.VThe first thing I became aware of was the scent. It wasn’t the sterile, sharp smell of a hospital or the stale, smoky air of the bar. It was sandalwood, expensive leather, and a hint of something crisp—like rain on cedar.It was a scent that lived in the fibers of my favorite sweaters and the skin of my neck after a long night. It was Damien.I opened my eyes slowly, the light filtering through heavy, charcoal-gray curtains. For a few seconds, I didn't know where I was. The ceiling was high, the molding intricate, and the room felt vast and silent. Then, the panic hit me.My heart leaped into my throat, and I bolted upright, the movement sending a sharp spike of vertigo through my skull. My first instinct wasn't to look around the room, but to look down.My breath hitched as I frantically checked my clothes. I was still in my white dress. It was wrinkled, slightly stained at the hem, and my hair was a tangled mess, but the fabric was intact. I was still dressed.I let out
Damien’s P.O.V"I don't like it, Alex. None of it adds up," I said, my voice tight, pacing the small area of the parking lot.We had come here after the noise inside the bar had gotten too loud and I had to make sure there were no witnesses who would be able to eavesdrop on our conversation. But the air here felt heavy, charged with a tension I couldn't shake."The timing of the Powells' return, the sudden pressure from Dad to finalize the merger, and then Grandmother’s collapse right after a phone call with them. It’s too coordinated. It feels like a siege."Alex sighed, her expression softening as she looked at me. She knew that when I got like this—when my suspicions locked onto a target—I didn't stop until I had dismantled the truth. "I know, Damien. I’ve felt it too. There’s a desperation in the way the Powells are pushing this that doesn't align with their usual poise.""I need to kno
Aria’s P.O.VThe world had dissolved into a series of fragmented, terrifying images. The ceiling lights of the hallway were no longer lights; they were long, bleeding streaks of white that pulsed in time with the thumping of my heart.Every step Steven took felt like a jolt of electricity through my spine, yet my limbs remained heavy, as if I were wading through deep, thick syrup.I could feel people watching us as we moved through the crowd toward the back of the lounge. I tried to scream, to shout that I didn’t know this man, that he had drugged me, but my throat felt like it had been sewn shut. All that escaped my lips was a soft, pathetic whimper that was swallowed by the roar of the bass from the dance floor."Easy there, sweetheart," Steven’s voice drifted into my ear. It was no longer the voice of the charming socialite. It was oily, possessive, and laced with a cruel sort of triumph.I felt the gaze of a f
Aria’s P.O.VI stared at Steven, my heart still hammering against my ribs from the sight of Damien and that woman in the gold dress.I felt raw, like a nerve that had been exposed to the open air, and the last thing I needed was Steven’s predatory brand of attention. He was charming, yes, but it was the kind of charm that felt like a velvet glove hiding a steel fist."I... I really can't, Steven," I said, my voice sounding small and shaky even to my own ears. I tried to step back, but the bar was getting more crowded by the second. People were pushing past us, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke. "I'm actually meeting someone. I should go find them."Steven didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He just kept that lazy, confident smile on his face, his eyes locked onto mine. "Meeting someone? Aria, look around. This place is a zoo. Whoever you're meeting isn't going anywhere. Why not just relax fo
Aria’s P.O.VThe rest of the afternoon felt like a fever dream. I sat at my desk, staring at the computer screen, but the words were just blurring into gray streaks.My mind was still trapped in that restaurant with Sophia Powell. Every word she had said, every calculated tilt of her head, and that soft, knowing smile—it all felt like a puzzle I couldn't solve.Sophia wasn't like Amara. Amara was a storm—loud, obvious, and destructive. Sophia was a tide; she pulled you under so slowly you didn't realize you were drowning until the water was already in your lungs. She hadn't screamed or called me names, but she had managed to make me feel small in a way that felt permanent.I kept telling myself that Damien loved me. He had told me. He had shown me in ways that left me breathless and shaking. But the world we lived in—the world of the Henderson’s and the Powells—didn't seem to have room for someone like
Aria’s P.O.VEveryone was looking at me.At least, that’s what it felt like the moment I stepped into the bar on a Wednesday night—face layered with makeup, hair styled in a way I barely recognized, and a dress so short it made me painfully aware of every step I took.The place was surprisingly cro
Aria’s P.O.V“My sister is the most gullible woman in the world. Even if she caught us right now—naked under the covers—I could tell her you were helping me rehearse for a play and she’d believe it.”“That’s why I like you, Amara,” Landon replied lazily. “You know exactly what you want, and you’re
Ari’s P.O.VI took off my sunglasses and placed them on my desk before plopping down heavily onto my chair.Amara hadn't returned home last night. In fact, I had no idea if she was coming back today or had she eloped with Landon altogether because for the first time in my life…I hadn't returned hom
Aria’s P.O.VI wake up slowly, as if I am being pulled out of deep water, my thoughts heavy and sluggish. My body feels weighed down by a strange mix of warmth and discomfort. A dull ache pulses behind my eyes, steady and insistent, making me wince before I even fully open them. The first thing I n







