LOGINAriana’s POVThe letter didn’t leave my hands immediately.Even after I finished reading it—Even after the words had already settled into something cold and heavy inside my chest—I still held onto it.Like letting go would somehow make it more real.⸻Stop looking for me.You were never meant to find me.Next time, I won’t run.⸻The words didn’t sound like fear.They didn’t sound like someone in danger.They sounded—Certain.⸻And that frightened me more than anything else.⸻“She wrote it,” I said quietly.⸻It wasn’t a question.⸻Damien leaned slightly against the edge of the table, his arms folded, his gaze fixed on me—not the paper.⸻“Yes.”⸻No hesitation.No doubt.⸻My fingers tightened slightly around the letter.⸻“She wasn’t forced,” I added.⸻“No.”⸻The confirmation felt heavier this time.⸻Because part of me—no matter how small—had hoped there was another explanation.Something simpler.Something easier to accept.⸻“There’s no sign of struggle,” he continued. “No
Ariana’s POVThe room felt wrong the moment we stepped inside.It wasn’t just the silence.It wasn’t even the emptiness.It was something deeper—something harder to name. Like walking into a conversation that had already ended, yet the words still lingered in the air, refusing to fade.I paused just past the doorway, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides as I took it in.The bed was unmade—not carelessly, but not neatly either. The covers were pulled back just enough to suggest someone had sat there, perhaps rested briefly, then risen again in a hurry. The pillows were slightly indented, holding the faint memory of a presence that was no longer there.“She was here,” I said quietly.The words didn’t feel like a discovery.They felt like confirmation.⸻“Yes,” Damien replied.⸻He moved further into the room, his steps measured, deliberate. His eyes didn’t linger on any one thing for long, but I could tell—he was noticing everything.Nothing escaped him.Not the slight crease in t
Ariana’s POVThe journey began before dawn.I had barely slept.Not because I couldn’t—but because every time I closed my eyes, the same thought returned.She left.Not taken. Not lost.Left.⸻The sky was still dim when I stepped outside, the early morning air cool against my skin. The estate behind me stood silent, its grand structure looming like a witness to everything that had gone wrong.A carriage waited at the front.Dark.Polished.Ready.⸻Damien stood beside it, speaking quietly with the driver. He turned as I approached, his expression unreadable as always.⸻“You’re late,” he said.⸻“I’m here,” I replied.⸻His gaze lingered on me for a moment—brief, assessing—before he stepped aside.⸻“Get in.”⸻No concern.No softness.Just control.⸻I climbed into the carriage, settling onto the seat opposite him. Moments later, the door shut, and we were moving.⸻The road stretched endlessly ahead.⸻For a while, neither of us spoke.⸻The sound of the wheels against the dirt pat
Ariana’s POVSomething wasn’t right.I felt it before anyone said a word.It sat in my chest like a warning—quiet, heavy, impossible to ignore.“Come with me.”I turned.Damien stood at the doorway, already dressed, already composed.But his eyes—They were sharper than usual.Colder.“What is it?” I asked.“Now.”No explanation.Of course.I followed him anyway.We moved quickly through the halls of the mansion, past servants who lowered their heads and stepped aside without question. The air itself felt tense, like the house knew something had shifted.His study door shut behind us with a firm click.Then—He turned to me.“She is not missing.”My breath caught.“What do you mean?”He walked to his desk and picked up a folded paper.Not official.Not stamped.Just a simple sheet—creased, handled, real.“A carriage log,” he said.My chest tightened.“She hired a private carriage the night before the wedding.”Silence fell hard.No.“That’s not possible,” I said quickly. “She wouldn’t
Ariana’s POVNothing felt the same anymore.Not the mansion.Not the silence.Not even… him.⸻After last night—After everything I said—I expected anger.Rejection.Distance.⸻Instead?I got control.But a different kind.⸻“You’ll take your medication on time.”His voice was calm that morning.Too calm.⸻“I will,” I replied.⸻“You’ll eat properly.”⸻“…Okay.”⸻“You won’t attend any event without me.”⸻I hesitated slightly.Then nodded.⸻“Yes.”⸻It felt strange.This wasn’t the cold, detached Damien from before.⸻This was—Intentional.⸻Calculated.⸻Like he was adjusting the situation…Not rejecting it.⸻“Good,” he said simply.⸻That was it.Conversation over.⸻But the weight of it?Stayed.⸻Because now—He knew.Everything.⸻And yet—He didn’t push me away.⸻That scared me more than anything.⸻⸻The day passed quietly.Too quietly.⸻I stayed in my room most of the time.Resting.Thinking.Trying not to think.⸻My body still felt weak.But slightly better than bef
Ariana’s POVDarkness again.It was becoming too familiar.Too easy to fall into.⸻But this time—Waking up felt heavier.Slower.Like my body didn’t even want to try anymore.⸻My eyes opened slightly.Blurred.Unsteady.⸻Voices.Low.Controlled.Familiar.⸻“…she fainted again.”“That’s the second time in less than twenty-four hours.”“She’s unstable.”⸻My chest tightened.I knew that voice.The man from earlier.⸻“…what about the answers?” Damien’s voice came next.Cold.Sharp.Focused.⸻A pause.Then—“She got basic information wrong.”⸻Silence.⸻Heavy.⸻Dangerous.⸻My heartbeat picked up.⸻“She hesitated,” the man continued. “Couldn’t confirm details about her own identity.”⸻Another pause.Longer this time.⸻Then—“Leave.”⸻Simple.Final.⸻Footsteps followed.The door opened.Closed.⸻And just like that—It was just him.And me.⸻I kept my eyes closed.Pretending.Hoping.Maybe if I stayed still—He wouldn’t—⸻“You can stop pretending.”⸻My eyes snapped open.⸻


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