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TWENTY-ONE: Safe Room Confessions

مؤلف: Rovelt Vell
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-07-24 21:22:34

Aria’s POV

Your turn is next.

The words sat on the tablet screen long after the secretary lowered it, long after Romanov’s jaw had gone tight enough to ache just looking at it.

“Lockdown,” Romanov said. “Full protocol. Everyone into the safe room until I know what we’re dealing with.”

Nobody argued. Not even Romeo, who was finally cut loose from his restraints and half-carried down the hall by two guards who clearly still weren’t sure whether to treat him as a victim or a threat.

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  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY-FIVE: The Call That Changed Everything

    Aria’s POV I stood in the hallway outside Elena’s room with the folded address burning against my palm, weighing the same decision I’d made once already tonight. Don’t tell Romanov. I’d promised him honesty the first morning of this marriage, and I’d kept that promise even when it cost me my brother’s trust. I wasn’t about to break it now, not when Elena’s own warning—you’re not going to like who survives the truth—made it clear that whatever waited at that address mattered too much to handle alone. I found him still in the study, the photograph of Romeo and the mystery man still spread across his desk. “Elena gave me something,” I said, setting the folded paper down in front of him. “An address. Where she hid the proof.” Romanov’s eyes lifted to mine, sharp and assessing. “She told you not to tell me.” “She did.” “And yet.” “I promised you honesty,” I said. “Even when keeping a secret might have been easier.” Something shifted behind his eyes—not quite surprise,

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY-FOUR: Shadows and Secrets

    Aria’s POV Romanov set the note down beside the photograph, both of them side by side on his desk like evidence in a trial only he understood the stakes of. “You recognize him,” he said, watching my face rather than the picture. “From my father’s birthday two years ago.” I forced the memory into focus, sharpening details I hadn’t thought about in months. “He was introduced to me briefly. My father shook his hand as the man mattered more than anyone else in the room.” “Did you catch a name?” “No. My father never introduced business associates to me properly. I was decoration at those events, not a participant.” The old bitterness surfaced more easily than I expected, worn smooth from years of practice. “But I remember him standing near you. Or near where you should have been, if you’d actually attended.” Romanov’s expression shifted slightly. “I wasn’t there.” “Then who was standing in for you?” The question hung between us, heavier than either of us wanted to ackno

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY-THREE: Family Echoes

    Aria’s POV I stood in the hallway with the phone still warm against my ear long after Romeo had hung up, Priya watching me with the careful patience of someone trained not to ask questions until she absolutely had to. Tell no one. Not Romanov. Not Elena. The instruction sat heavy in my chest, made heavier by the fact that I’d made Romanov a promise the very first morning of this marriage. And here I was, less than a minute into a phone call, already weighing whether my brother’s paranoia was worth breaking it. “You should sit,” Priya said quietly. “You’ve gone pale.” “I’m fine.” “You’re not,” she said, echoing Romanov’s exact words from days earlier, and something about the repetition made me laugh despite everything, a short, humorless sound that didn’t fix anything but loosened the knot in my chest by a fraction. I made my decision walking back to my room. Not because I trusted Romeo’s warning completely, but because I’d learned the hard way what secrets cost people

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY-TWO: Lines Drawn

    Aria’s POV She was breathing. That was the only thing I let myself register at first, kneeling in the wet grass beside her, my hands hovering uselessly over a body that looked too small and too still to belong to the woman who’d stood in Romanov’s study demanding her own survival. “She’s alive,” one of the guards said, fingers pressed to her throat. “Pulse is weak, but it’s there.” Romanov crouched on her other side, his voice sharp and controlled even as his jaw betrayed the tension coiled beneath it. “What happened to her?” “No visible gunshot wounds,” the guard said, running practiced hands along her ribs, her skull, the back of her neck. “Looks like blunt trauma. Possibly a fall, possibly worse.” “Get her inside,” Romanov ordered. “Now.” They moved her carefully, and I followed close behind, my mind racing through every version of what might have happened—Elena caught by whoever she’d gone after, Elena running from something that finally caught up to her, Elena sta

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY-ONE: Safe Room Confessions

    Aria’s POV Your turn is next. The words sat on the tablet screen long after the secretary lowered it, long after Romanov’s jaw had gone tight enough to ache just looking at it. “Lockdown,” Romanov said. “Full protocol. Everyone into the safe room until I know what we’re dealing with.” Nobody argued. Not even Romeo, who was finally cut loose from his restraints and half-carried down the hall by two guards who clearly still weren’t sure whether to treat him as a victim or a threat. The safe room felt smaller with four of us crowded into it—Romanov pacing near the door, Romeo slumped against the far wall nursing a split lip, the secretary hunched over a laptop tracking security feeds, and me sitting on the steel bench trying to keep my hands from shaking. “We need to talk about what that message means,” I said. “It means they know Elena’s gone,” Romanov said, not looking up from the monitor he’d commandeered. “And they think that leaves you exposed.” “Does it?” I asked.

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   TWENTY: Turning Tides

    Aria’s POV Romanov unfolded the note with hands that betrayed more than his face ever would. I read it over his shoulder, my heart hammering against my ribs. I found the proof. I know who’s behind Northbridge. I couldn’t wait for permission to leave—if I stayed, I would have led them straight to it. Trust me one more time. I’m going to end this. “She left to protect us,” I said slowly, “or she left because she’s finally free to do whatever she actually intended to do.” “Both interpretations are dangerous,” Romanov said, his voice flat. He was already moving toward the door, already reaching for his phone. “Full search. Every camera, every road out of this estate. She doesn’t leave this property without me knowing where.” Security scrambled into motion around us, but I already knew what they’d find. Elena was too careful to leave a trail she didn’t want followed. Romeo watched from his chair, still bound, still pale. “She’s going after Northbridge herself,” he said qui

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