Chapter 6

**ARIA**

I'd barely had time to process what I'd overheard when my door flew open without warning.

Lydia stood in the doorway, dark hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. Her eyes swept over me, still in the towel I'd grabbed after my shower, hair dripping wet.

"You have fifteen minutes to make yourself presentable," she said, tone clipped and professional. "Mr. Black has assignments for you today."

I clutched the towel tighter. "I was just—"

"Fifteen minutes, Miss Finner. Uniform on. Hair pulled back. Meet me in the East Wing hallway." She turned to leave, then paused. "And this time, follow the dress code completely. Mr. Black was quite clear about your noncompliance this morning."

Heat flooded my face. Of course he'd told her.

She left without waiting for a response, the door clicking shut with that same final sound everything in this house seemed to make.

I stood there for a moment, anger and shame warring in my chest, before forcing myself to move.

Fifteen minutes.

I dressed quickly, pulling on the same uniform from this morning. I put my panties on too.

I wouldn't let him control every part of me.

I pulled my damp hair back into a low ponytail, looked at myself in the mirror one last time, and walked out.

***

Lydia was waiting exactly where she said she'd be, tablet in hand, expression unreadable.

"The East Wing needs attention," she said without preamble, already walking. I followed, heels clicking against hardwood. "Guest rooms, the library, and Mr. Black's personal study. You'll clean, organize, and ensure everything is exactly as it should be."

"His personal study?" I kept my voice neutral.

"Yes. He's in meetings all day, so you'll have privacy to work." She glanced back at me. "The study is normally locked, but I've been instructed to give you access. However," her voice sharpened, "you are to clean only. Do not touch anything. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

She handed me the tablet. "Your task list is here. Complete everything before five PM."

Then she was gone.

***

I started with the guest rooms.

They were pristine, untouched, like hotel rooms waiting for guests who would never arrive. I dusted surfaces that had no dust, straightened pillows that were already straight, and wondered why Jade needed a dozen guest bedrooms in a penthouse where no one ever visited.

The library was next. Floor to ceiling shelves packed with leather bound books, first editions, rare collections. I ran my fingers along the spines as I dusted. Philosophy, military strategy, corporate warfare. The books of a man who studied power like other people studied hobbies.

And tucked between The Art of War and The Prince, I found something that didn't belong. A slim volume with a cracked spine and no title on the cover.

Curious, I pulled it out.

A journal. .

And on the first page, in elegant handwriting, Property of Elise Marchesi.

I should have put it back. Should have followed Lydia's instructions and kept cleaning.

Instead I flipped to a random page.

Jade is brilliant but stubborn. He won't listen to reason about Kane. I've tried explaining that Kane's numbers don't add up, that something is off about the whole deal, but he's convinced this is the move that will make us untouchable. I'm worried. Sometimes I think he'd make a deal with the devil himself if it meant winning.

I stared at the words, pulse racing.

Kane.

The same name Jade had mentioned on the phone this morning.

I flipped forward.

Viktor Kane cornered me at the gala tonight. Asked me to convince Jade to sign. When I refused, he smiled and said, then I'll have to find another way to persuade him. I told Jade. He laughed it off. Said Viktor was just posturing. I don't think he was.

I continued reading.

I found discrepancies in Kane Industries' financial reports. I think Viktor is laundering money. Or worse. I'm going to tell Jade tonight. He'll have to listen to this.

The entry ended there.

The next page was blank.

And the next.

Until the final page, in different handwriting, harsh, angry.

She was right about everything. And I got her killed for it.

My hands shook as I closed the journal.

She'd died. Been killed.

And someone blamed themselves for it.

I shoved the journal back onto the shelf, mind racing.

This wasn't just about my father's debt anymore. This was about something bigger. Something that had gotten someone killed.

I left the library and walked down the hallway to the last door.

Jade's study.

It was slightly ajar.

Lydia said it would be unlocked, but this felt intentional. Like a test. Like Jade wanted to see if I'd snoop around.

I pushed the door open.

***

The study was everything I'd expected. Massive desk made of dark wood. Expensive chairs and tables lined with monitors.

And on the walls, security feeds showing different locations across the city.

My eyes caught on the desk.

Files. Stacked neatly. And the top one labeled in bold letters, Kane Industries Hostile Acquisition.

I glanced back at the door. No footsteps.

I couldn't stop myself.

I opened the file.

Inside were financial documents, legal paperwork, surveillance photos. And a dossier on Viktor Kane himself. Mid fifties, silver hair, sharp features, cold eyes. CEO of Kane Industries. Net worth in the billions.

There was a note there.

I picked it up. 'I'll destroy him.'

My chest tightened.

This wasn't just business. This was personal.

Jade was waging war against Viktor Kane, and somehow my father had stumbled into the middle of it.

I closed the file carefully, making sure everything was exactly as I'd found it.

Then I saw it.

The photograph.

Sitting in a silver frame on the corner of his desk, positioned so he'd see it every time he sat down.

I picked it up with trembling hands.

The woman in the photo was stunning. Mid twenties, dark hair swept into an elegant updo, wearing a black evening gown that screamed wealth and sophistication. She was laughing at something off camera, her whole face lit up with genuine joy.

And she looked exactly like... me.

My stomach twisted.

Same dark hair. Same eyes, same nose, same mouth.

But where I looked ordinary, she looked polished. Where I looked like a girl from a struggling family, she looked like she'd been born into power.

I turned the frame over with shaking hands.

On the back, in elegant script, Elise Marchesi.

The woman from the journal.

The woman who'd warned Jade about Kane.

The woman who'd died because of it.

And I looked exactly like her.

Had he taken me because of that?

The room suddenly felt suffocating.

I heard footsteps in the hallway.

Shit.

I set the photo back exactly where it had been and grabbed my cleaning supplies, pretending to dust the bookshelves.

The footsteps passed by without stopping.

I exhaled slowly, heart still hammering.

But as I gathered my supplies to leave, I caught sight of one more thing.

A drawer in his desk. Slightly open.

I should have left. Should have walked away.

Instead I pulled it open.

Inside was another photograph. More candid this time.

Elise and Jade together. Younger, maybe early twenties. His arm around her waist. Her head on his shoulder. Both of them smiling like they'd just shared a private joke.

They looked happy. In love.

He held her the way only a man in love would hold a woman.

I closed it up and left the study.

***

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

I cleaned on autopilot, my mind stuck on that photograph and on Elise's journal.

On the horrifying realization that I was probably living in a dead woman's shadow.

By the time I finished and returned to my room, I was exhausted.

I collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Jade was planning to destroy Viktor Kane.

My father had witnessed something that could help him do it.

And I looked like the woman Jade had loved and lost.

The woman whose death he blamed himself for.

My tablet chimed.

Lydia wrote, Uniform A. Hair down. Be ready by eight.

I stared at the message, stomach churning.

I wanted to refuse. Wanted to throw the tablet and tell them all to go to hell.

But I thought about my father. About what would happen to him if I didn't play along.

And I thought about what I'd discovered today. The evidence I'd need if I was going to survive this.

I got up slowly and walked to the closet.

The uniform hung there, waiting.

I pulled it on, the fabric settling against my skin. Let my hair down, brushing it until it fell in dark waves around my shoulders.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror.

And for just a second, I didn't see Aria Finner looking back.

I saw Elise Marchesi.

Beautiful. Polished. Dead.

I stepped back from the mirror, heart pounding.

When Jade looked at me tonight, who would he see?

Me?

Or her ghost?

I opened the door and walked down the hallway, each step feeling like walking toward an answer I wasn't sure I wanted.