CHAPTER 3: A Different Aria

Aria Whitmore moved into Ethan Blackwood’s penthouse two days after signing the contract.

The place was just as she remembered: sleek marble floors, towering glass walls that overlooked the city skyline, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

But this time, everything felt different.

Because she was different.

In her past life, she had tiptoed through these halls, desperate to please him, always waiting for his attention and his affection.

This time, she kept her distance.

“Your room is ready,” Ethan said, standing across from her as the housekeeper rolled her suitcase into the guest wing. “Unless you prefer to share.”

She kept a straight face. “That won’t be necessary.”

Ethan smiled, as if he was expecting her to eventually change her mind. “Suit yourself.”

She walked past him without a word, her heels clicking against the polished floor, her cold silence a sharp contrast to the woman who once filled these rooms with laughter and warmth.

Ethan watched her retreating figure, his brow wrinkled.

Why does it feel like I know her?

He shook off the thought. It is only a matter of time before she falls for me, like they always do.

Days passed, but Aria didn’t soften.

She didn’t linger by his office door like before.

She didn’t bring him late-night coffee.

She didn’t ask about his day or slip handwritten notes into his briefcase.

Their interactions were sharp, professional, and distant.

Ethan found himself strangely confused.

He doesn't know why; he feels like he has known her before.

One evening, as they prepared to attend a corporate gala, Ethan adjusted his tie in the mirror, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She stood across the room in a sleek black dress, securing her earring with graceful indifference. Her hair was swept up in a loose bun, and her makeup was subtle yet striking.

“You look beautiful,” he said, testing her reaction.

“Thank you,” she replied flatly, as if she had just been complimented on a spreadsheet.

He chuckled lightly. “No smile? No blush?”

She met his gaze, looking so calm and unbothered. “We are on a business arrangement, Ethan. Not a love story.”

His jaw tightened.

“I suppose you will warm up to me eventually,” he teased, forcing confidence into his tone.

Aria simply grabbed her purse. “Don’t wait up.”

At the gala, they played their roles flawlessly. Arm in arm, exchanging polite smiles, posing for photos, but as soon as the cameras were gone, Aria slipped from his side without hesitation.

Selena Hart found her almost immediately.

“Aria Whitmore,” Selena said slowly, her voice like honey, laced with venom. “Still pretending to be Ethan’s perfect little wife, I see.”

Aria looked at her. “You have mistaken me for someone who cares.”

Selena blinked, thrown off by the calm dismissal.

In the past, Aria would have stayed quiet and allowed Selena's words to hurt her; she would have been afraid and tried to defend herself.

But this time?

This time, she wasn’t interested in playing the victim.

“You know, eventually he will get tired of you,” Selena hissed, stepping closer. “Because He is mine.”

Aria sipped her champagne slowly. “Then I suppose you’ll be waiting a long time.”

Selena’s eyes narrowed, irritation flashing across her face. “You think you are untouchable now?”

“No,” Aria said simply. “That is because I don’t care.”

With that, she turned on her heel, leaving Selena breathless and confused.

Across the room, Ethan had watched the entire exchange. He felt like he could have enjoyed this war more, but for some reason he feels like there is something different about Aria, something that sets her apart from Selena. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he feels like something is different.

Because tonight?

Aria had not even looked his way.

That cold indifference troubled him.

Back at the penthouse, Aria returned to her room and immediately dialled her brother.

“Ryan, how is the prototype coming along?” she asked as she took off her heels and jumped on the bed.

Ryan’s voice crackled through the speaker. “We’re on track. The samples for the skincare line should be ready next week. And I have already started negotiations with that boutique supplier you recommended.”

“Perfect,” she breathed, her chest warming with a satisfaction she hadn’t known in her past life.

She had given up everything for Ethan before.

Not this time.

This time, she was building something of her own, a fashion and beauty brand with her brother, something no one could take from her.

“Let’s scale faster than we did last time,” Aria said, her voice firm. “I want us to dominate this market. I don’t care if I am living under Ethan’s roof; I’m not living in his shadow.”

Ryan hesitated on the other end. “Are you sure about this, Aria? About living with him? Won’t it mess with your head?”

“It won’t,” she said without missing a beat. “Because I don’t love him. I never will.”

Neither of them realised the door was slightly opened.

Neither of them noticed Ethan standing in the hallway.

His hand had frozen on the door handle when he’d heard his name. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but her words struck him like a blow to the chest.

I don’t love him, and I will never love him.

The sentence echoed in his mind, over and over, like a cruel mantra.

His throat tightened, his pulse spiking in a way he didn’t quite understand.

It wasn’t supposed to matter.

This was a contract marriage. They both knew it.

But hearing her say it so easily, so confidently…

His jaw clenched. Ethan became restless.

“Who the hell are you, Aria Whitmore?

And what makes you different from every other woman who has fallen in love with me?”

He walked away silently, his mind clouded with thoughts he couldn’t name.

And for the first time since signing the contract, his pride didn’t feel so certain anymore.