All Chapters of Behind The Mask : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Zara's POV I walked past Cassian. He didn’t say a word. His eyes were locked on the glowing screen, jaw tight.That was odd. After everything that had just happened, I expected an explosion, anger, accusations, something. But nothing. His stillness unsettled me more than rage ever could. I slipped into my room and locked the door. My phone buzzed just as I sat on the bed, Sterling. We spoke for a while. After the call, I checked my secret CCTV feed, scanning for any sign of Cassian entering my room. Nothing. He hadn’t moved.And then another unsettling thought hit me. Ever since I’d taken the journal from the Purple safe, my nights had gone quiet, no invasive memories.By the time I drifted off, it felt like my mind was hiding something from me.The next morning, Friday, I overslept. My body had no desire to drag itself to work. Lazily, I flipped open my laptop to skim through office files, though my head was far away from numbers and contracts.Then my phone lit up. Dominic’s name.

Zara's POVI'm asking you Aria, “Have you been sleeping with my uncle?”Cassian’s voice wasn’t raised, but it was venom wrapped in velvet, low and dangerous. For a heartbeat, I just stared at him, frozen. My pulse thundered, my mind running through every stolen glance with Sterling, every secret meeting that suddenly felt like a crime scene.“Cassian…” I began.He took a slow step forward, jaw tight, fists curling at his sides. “Answer me.”I wanted to laugh, to deny, to play the cold and untouchable Aria the world thought I was, but for the first time in weeks, I felt that wasn't necessary.I forced myself to breathe slowly. “Why would you accuse me of that?” My voice was steady.Cassian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for a brown envelope on the table, his fingers trembling just enough to betray his rage. He yanked out a stack of glossy photographs and slammed them down. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.My eyes fell to the images, our images. Sterli

Zara's POV Sterling’s gaze lingered on me, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.“What? Are you surprised?”“Yes,” I admitted, the word slipping out before I could dress it in composure.He set the photographs down, his sigh cutting through the silence. “Cassian is my nephew. I know him, he is wicked, ambitious, and never satisfied. From the moment he came of age and started working, he has wanted to unseat me. He still does. He’s been clawing at my position ever since.”I frowned. “But why? Isn’t he already part of the empire?”“The way our family empire works,” he said, “is through succession from one siblings family to the other. It’s never meant for one person to own everything. Since his father was chairman, I was next. Then, one day, it would pass to Cassian’s child, and then to my grandchild. It’s a cycle meant to keep balance, but Cassian doesn’t want balance. He wants the throne, all of it, forever.”“Oh.” The simplicity of my response felt almost foolish, but the pict

Zara's POV I returned to Dominic’s place and pushed my body until my muscles screamed. Every punch, every kick, every bead of sweat that hit the mat was me trying to silence the storm in my chest. My lungs burned, my knuckles stung, but I welcomed the ache. I needed the distraction.The irony wasn’t lost on me, I was training with the very man who had become the wedge between Raina and me. Every time his gaze lingered a second too long, I wanted to scream at him, but I bit down hard on the words. Maybe I had been too harsh on Raina, but I know her too well. She’s a lover girl to her core, soft where I’m steel, and I’ve seen her fall too easily, then drown in regret. And the thought of her repeating that mistake with Dominic? It churned my stomach.By the time I dragged myself home, every muscle was trembling. I showered until the water ran cold, threw on an oversized shirt, and forced myself to eat something. The silence of the house pressed in, Cassian was still out. Good. One less

Zara's POV I took a deep breath and dropped the phone. When Sterling called later, I told him work was overwhelming and I needed to spend the weekend buried in it. We'd meet next week. He didn’t push, and I was grateful.But as I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling, the question gnawed at me, what if the test exposes me? What if the machine screams that I am not Aria?Restless, I grabbed my laptop and started searching. Polygraph test. Hundreds of results poured in. I clicked a video. A man sat with wires wrapped around his chest, cuffs on his arm, sensors pressed to his skin. The screen showed his pulse, his breathing, the faintest electrical tremors in his body.I leaned forward. The truth is, the machine doesn’t actually know if you’re lying. It only listens to the body, the racing heartbeat, the hitch in a breath, the surge of sweat on the skin. That’s what betrays you. The examiner reads those spikes on the graph, and in their world, stress means deception.So no, the polygrap