RUMORS & RUIN

The morning started with laughter.

Aria sat at the long marble kitchen island, Eva by her side, both of them in oversized T-shirts and messy buns, half-eaten croissants between them. For once, she felt normal. Not like someone’s possession. Not like the girl hidden in a gilded cage. Just… Aria.

“You snore,” Eva teased, sipping her coffee.

Aria snorted. “I’m growing a human. I’m allowed.”

Across the room, Luca stood with a cup of espresso in hand. He gave the smallest smile at the sound of her laugh, but didn’t join in. He’d been quiet since Eva arrived, polite, distant, always watching and always calculating.

“You okay?” Eva asked quietly, her eyes flicking toward him.

Aria shrugged. “It’s… complicated.”

“He’s hot,” Eva whispered. “But also kind of terrifying.”

Aria smiled weakly. “Welcome to my life.”

Before Eva could respond, Maria stepped into the kitchen, phone in hand, worry shadowing her face.

“Aria,” she said, voice low. “You should see this.”

She handed over her phone. On the screen was a university group chat, the kind Aria had muted months ago when life stopped being normal. A screenshot had been dropped in, followed by dozens of shocked messages.

@Lexii115: Is it true??? Aria from Psych is a SURROGATE?? For LUCA DE ROSSI??

@TatiRose: Wait wait wait—LUCA DE ROSSI??? Like, the real one???

@GirlOnFire: The same billionaire with the cold eyes and the $20M Tribeca penthouse? That Luca?

@EleniSays: Lmfao she’s pregnant and it’s not even hers???

Aria blinked. “Luca De Rossi?”

Eva leaned over, reading. “Isn’t his last name Cross?”

“It is,” Aria muttered, then glanced at Luca. He had frozen mid-sip. Slowly, he set his cup down.

“De Rossi is my birth name,” he said flatly. “Cross is what I built my company under.”

Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “So Luca De Rossi is your… billionaire alter ego?”

His jaw tightened. “De Rossi is the name the media won’t let go of. Cross is who I am now.”

Aria stared at him. “So they dug up your real name. And now they think I’m carrying your child for money.”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, his voice colder than steel.

“But that’s what they think. That I’m what? A paid womb?” Her chest burned as anger flared too fast, too sharp.

Eva scrolled, pale. “It’s getting worse. Someone said you disappeared for weeks, came back glowing, and now live in a penthouse. They’ve basically built an entire plotline around you.”

Aria stood abruptly. “This is humiliating.”

“I’ll shut it down,” Luca said, stepping forward.

She looked at him, incredulous. “How? You can’t erase what people already believe.”

“I’ll make a statement. My lawyers can push a defamation notice.”

“Defamation?” she snapped. “Luca, they’re not tabloids. They’re girls I shared lecture halls with. This isn’t a lawsuit moment. It’s a me moment. I’m the one being picked apart.”

He didn’t speak for a beat. Then: “You shouldn’t be stressed. This isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“And what, exactly, is good for me?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Being trapped in a golden prison while the world tears me apart for a decision I never really got to make?”

His mouth opened, but no words came.

Aria turned away, swallowing back the sting of tears. She wouldn’t break in front of him, not like this.

Eva rose carefully. “Do you want to go out? Clear your head?”

“I can’t,” Aria muttered. “I can’t even go downstairs without Luca’s team doing a sweep. I’m not allowed to breathe without clearance.”

“You’re not a prisoner, Aria,” Luca said sharply.

“Really?” She spun back to him. “Because everything sure feels like a transaction lately. The apartment. The silence. The nutritionist. The yoga trainer. And now the rumors? All wrapped in a bow called control.”

His flinch hurt more than she expected.

Eva stepped in between them. “Okay. Maybe we all need air. Aria, come with me. Luca, maybe cancel your billionaire meetings or whatever and figure out how to actually help her.”

To Aria’s surprise, Luca didn’t argue. His jaw was tense, but his voice was quiet. “I’ll handle it.”

He left the kitchen with a pace that spoke of restraint and storm.

Two hours later, Aria sat at a rooftop café with Eva, sunglasses hiding her face, a scarf loosely tied over her growing bump. For the first time in weeks, she was outside without bodyguards. Free. Anonymous. Almost.

Her phone buzzed.

Maria: He shut down the threads. Admins removed the posts. Word is out that it’s fake.

Luca: Your name is on every digital corner it touched. I’ve also arranged a private sit-down with the Dean tomorrow to preempt any gossip hitting faculty.

Aria read it, her heart heavy.

“Still controlling the damage?” Eva asked gently.

She nodded. “That’s the thing. He knows how to fix messes. He doesn’t know how to sit in them with me.”

Eva sipped her drink. “He’s not heartless, though. That much I see.”

“No,” Aria admitted. “He’s not. But he’s ruthless. And sometimes I don’t know if there’s room for softness where he lives.”

Her voice cracked. She hadn’t meant for it to.

Eva placed her hand over hers. “Do you love him?”

Aria hesitated. “I don’t know what love is anymore. But I know I feel something. And it scares me more than the gossip.”

They sat in silence, the city humming around them. Then Eva’s frown cut through.

“Um… don’t look, but we’ve got company.”

Aria turned.

A woman stood at the edge of the outdoor seating area. Late forties. Elegant. A silver streak through her hair. Fire in her eyes.

Not paparazzi. Not press. Yet she seemed familiar.

She was staring straight at Aria.

The woman stepped forward, her voice poised and lethal.

“I’m Luca’s mother,” she said. “And we need to talk.”