Chapter 7

[ ARIA’S POV ]

The gala was supposed to be a dream, but it felt more like a trap.

The second we walked in, Elara’s whisper started looping in my brain like a broken record: Pray you come back alive.

The place was stunning there’s no other way to put it. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, dripping like diamonds and bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. Women in silk gowns glided past men in sharp black suits. Soft music filled the air, and waiters darted around with silver trays of champagne.

It was all so perfect. Too perfect. And honestly? That’s what made my skin crawl.

I stayed silent at Luca’s side. His hand was heavy on my lower back, guiding me through the crowd like I was a prize he’d already won. Maybe, in his head, I was.

I watched the way people reacted to him. It wasn’t just respect, it was pure, unfiltered fear. Conversations died the moment he got close. Smiles turned stiff and fake. Nobody looked him in the eye for more than a second.

“Stay close,” he muttered, his gaze scanning the room.

“I just need the restroom,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He looked down at me, his eyes sharp and hard. “Five minutes. That’s it.”

I nodded and hurried away. The further I got from the noise of the ballroom, the easier it was to actually breathe. My heels clicked against the marble floor of the quiet hallway, the sound echoing off the walls.

I pushed into the restroom and headed straight for the sink, gripping the edge so hard my knuckles turned white. I looked at myself in the mirror. The dark dress fit like a glove, and my hair was styled perfectly. To anyone else, I looked like the luckiest girl in the room.

They couldn't see the panic vibrating under my skin.

Get it together, Aria, I told myself, splashing cold water on my wrists.

But Elara’s voice wouldn't stop. Pray you come back alive.

A shiver ran down my spine. Then, the door opened

I froze.

Two men in black suits walked in. They weren't stumbling or looking confused, they knew exactly where they were. My stomach dropped. One of them reached back and turned the lock.

The click sounded like a death sentence.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking as I took a step back.

The taller one gave me a slow, nasty grin. “So this is Luca’s new obsession.” He looked me up and down in a way that made me feel sick.

The second man leaned against the door, crossing his arms. “Prettier than the rumors.”

“You need to leave,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

They just laughed.

The tall one started walking toward me, unbuttoning his cufflinks. “Your husband has made a lot of enemies, sweetheart.”

“He’s not my..

“Doesn’t matter,” the other one snapped. “Tonight, he’s going to learn a lesson.”

I backed up until I hit the cold marble of the counter. There was nowhere left to go. My heart was thumping against my ribs so hard it hurt.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

The tall man stopped right in my space. He smelled like expensive cologne and cigarettes. “To send Luca a message.”

Before I could move, his hand clamped onto my jaw. I gasped, clawing at his wrist, but his grip was like iron.

“Look at you,” he mocked. “You’re shaking.”

The other man started moving in closer. I was drowning in fear. Luca had told me not to leave him. He’d warned me. And for the first time, I finally understood why.

The man leaned in, his face inches from mine

CRASH.

The door didn't just open; it practically flew off the hinges. The sound was like a bomb going off.

All three of us jumped. My eyes flew to the doorway.

Luca was standing there.

He didn't look angry. He looked deadly. It was a cold, quiet kind of rage that froze the air in the room. His eyes locked onto the hand still gripping my face.

The silence was terrifying.

Then, Luca spoke, his voice low and dangerous.

“Take your hand off my wife.”

The man let go instantly, his face turning pale. But looking at Luca’s expression, I knew it didn't matter.

It was already way too late for them.

Luca’s voice tore through the hall like a gunshot. The two men jumped back, their hands flying off me instantly.

“Get your hands off her!” he roared.

He was storming toward us, and for a split second, I actually felt a wave of relief. I thought he was saving me. My heart was thumping against my ribs so hard I could barely breathe, but seeing him there made my knees feel weak with hope.

The two goons ducked their heads, looking terrified.

“Boss, we thought she was

“I said leave!”

They didn't wait for a second invitation. They vanished.

I leaned against the wall, my hands shaking so much I had to tuck them into my sides. Luca’s eyes scanned me dark, sharp, and unreadable.

Then, Elara appeared out of the shadows.

“Oh my God!” she cried, her voice high and breathless. She rushed over, looking frantic. “What happened? Aria, are you okay?”

I turned on her, my blood boiling. “You sent them!” I snapped. “You told me to come out here!”

Elara’s eyes went wide. She looked like I’d just slapped her. “What? Aria, what are you even talking about?”

“Don't lie! You warned me before the gala,” I said, my voice cracking with anger. “You said I should pray I made it back alive!”

I looked at Luca, hoping he’d see through it, but his face was turning to stone.

Elara grabbed his arm, her bottom lip trembling. “Luca, I swear I have no idea what she’s saying. I only came looking for her because I noticed she’d slipped out of the ballroom.”

“You’re a liar!” I shouted.

Right on cue, tears started welling up in Elara’s eyes. It was a masterpiece.

“She asked me earlier where the back exit was,” Elara whispered, her voice small and sad. “I didn't think anything of it at the time... but now...”

My stomach bottomed out. “No,” I breathed.

Elara looked up at Luca, her face full of fake pity. “I think she was trying to run away.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Suffocating.

Luca turned his head toward me. Slowly.

Whatever softness I thought I saw in him earlier was gone. It was replaced by a cold, sharp fury that made my skin crawl.

“You tried to run?” he asked. His voice was dangerously quiet.

“No! Luca, listen to me—”

“You used my own gala as a distraction?”

“She’s lying to you!” I screamed.

Elara shrank back, acting like she was scared of me. “I even told the guards to watch the doors... I just had a bad feeling...”

I stared at her, paralyzed. Every word she said was a trap, and I’d walked right into the middle of it.

Luca’s hand clamped onto my arm. His grip was like iron, bruising and harsh.

“You really don’t learn, do you?” he growled.

“I wasn’t escaping!” I cried, trying to pull away. “Those men cornered me! They were going to hurt me

“Then why were you out here alone?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came. The truth sounded like a pathetic excuse compared to the story Elara had just woven.

Luca’s grip tightened.

“You embarrassed me at my own event,” he said, his voice flat and freezing. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

The tears finally spilled over. “You’re hurting me...”

“Maybe pain is the only thing that actually gets through to you.”

I looked past him and saw Elara looking down, her hair hiding her face. But I saw it—the tiny, sharp smile on her lips.

She had won. And I was done for.

Lucas had assigned a shadow to me—a guard who stood so close I could feel the chill coming off him. His eyes never left me, tracking every breath I took as if I were about to bolt for the nearest exit.

God, I hated it.

The ballroom was a sea of soft music and golden light. To anyone else, it was elegant. To me, it was suffocating. I watched the "important" people laugh and clink their crystal glasses, the scent of heavy perfumes making my head spin. They all looked so effortlessly happy.

I was the only one who felt like I was drowning.

I tucked myself into a corner, twisting my fingers together to keep them from shaking. My eyes darted through the crowd, looking for Luca. I wasn't looking for comfort; I was looking for a gap. A distraction. Anything that would let me slip away from this nightmare.

But Luca was deep in conversation with men in sharp suits, looking every bit the cold, untouchable king he was.

Then, a voice cut through the noise.

"Oh, you poor thing."

My stomach dropped. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was Elara.

She sauntered over, her heels clicking a rhythmic, predatory beat against the marble. She looked stunning, but it was the kind of beauty that felt like a warning.

She stopped right in front of me and crossed her arms, a mean little smirk playing on her lips.

"You look miserable," she said, her voice dripping with mock pity. "Like a prisoner who got dragged to the ball in chains."

I stared past her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

She just laughed. It was a sharp, grating sound.

"Silent treatment? Really?" She leaned in. "Tell me, Aria, how’s it feel? Knowing Luca trusts a hired gun more than he trusts the woman in his bed?"

The guard didn't move an inch, but my face burned with shame.

Elara stepped into my personal space, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You actually thought you could run from him? That’s almost cute."

I curled my hands into fists. "I have nothing to say to you, Elara."

"Maybe not, but I’ve got plenty to say to you." Her smile turned jagged. "Look at this room. Look at these people. You don’t fit, Aria. You’re just a shiny new toy. Once the paint starts to peel, Luca will toss you aside like yesterday's trash."

The words stung, but I kept my face like stone. I wouldn't let her see me bleed.

"What do you actually get out of this?" I asked, my voice low and steady. "Why do you care so much?"

She tilted her head, acting innocent. "Me? I just find it entertaining."

Then, she leaned in close to my ear. Her breath was cold.

"You should’ve listened when I told you to pray you’d make it back alive."

A shiver raced down my spine. I pulled back, searching her eyes. There was a frantic, dangerous edge to her tonight. This wasn't just her usual bullying.

"What are you planning?" I demanded.

She stepped back instantly, her face a mask of fake shock. "Planning? Aria, you’re getting paranoid."

She grabbed a glass of wine from a passing tray and took a slow, deliberate sip.

"But if I were in your shoes," she added, "I’d watch my back tonight. Very carefully."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The guard shifted beside me. Across the room, Luca’s eyes flicked toward us. The second Elara saw him looking, the mask went back on. Her expression softened into something sweet and sisterly.

"I really do hope you have a lovely time tonight, dear," she said loudly, making sure the nearby guests could hear.

I just stared at her. The fake-ness was nauseating.

As soon as Luca looked away, the mask slipped.

"You know," she murmured, her voice like ice, "people go missing at events like this all the time. So much noise. So much confusion. No one ever notices until it's too late."

Fear crawled up my throat, but I forced it down.

She wanted me to be afraid. She wanted me to feel small.

But as I looked at her, and then at the guard, and then at Luca, I felt something else start to burn under the fear.

Anger.

I was done being the victim. I was done being the girl everyone watched but nobody saw. I was tired of just trying to survive.

For the first time since Luca had dragged me into his world, I realized that playing defense wasn't going to save me. If I wanted to get out of this alive, I had to stop running and start fighting back.