All Chapters of Falling for my Saviour: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Aria’s POVThe house turned into something unrecognizable. He didn’t come out anymore, and I didn’t go in. It was safer that way. He stayed where the noise couldn’t reach him, and I stayed where my thoughts couldn’t get too loud. We existed in the same space, but we were no longer living in it together.The walls began to echo in strange ways, and sometimes it sounded like footsteps when it wasn’t. I used to wait for the sound of him walking past, that heavy, certain rhythm that always made me feel like the world was steady again, and then one night it stopped completely, and I realized I didn’t know whether I missed it or feared it.Days stretched, and nights blurred. The clocks meant nothing anymore because everything moved at the same slow pace. I spent hours staring at the same page of a book, reading the same line, never reaching the end. The words faded into shapes I didn’t recognize, and then I’d close the book and press it against my chest just to feel something that wasn’t pa

Aria’s POV That morning, Mara came into my room and dropped a folded note on the desk. I had been up all night waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed with my knees pulled to my chest, eyes fixed on the door like it would open on its own. When it finally did, I couldn’t even move. She didn’t say a word. Her hand trembled slightly as she pushed the note toward me. Then she looked at me once, her face pale and unreadable, and whispered, “Get ready.” I stared at her, not believing she actually said it. “You have five minutes,” she added, and before I could speak, she walked out and shut the door behind her. My body moved before my thoughts caught up. I grabbed the small bag I’d kept hidden under the bed and stuffed in what I could a shirt and some toiletries that was all, nothing heavy, nothing that could slow me down. My fingers kept slipping and I couldn’t stop shaking. The note sat where she’d left it. I picked it up with both hands, afraid it would vanish if I b

Aria’s POV The street looked endless, and every step felt like it could be my last. I didn’t know where I was going I just knew I had to keep walking. The night pressed down on me, it was cold out on the streets like that and the further I went, the louder everything sounded engines, sirens, voices, my own heartbeat. I hadn’t stopped since I left the house. My plan was to get as farther as I could to minimize the chances of Damien or anyone finding me. My legs ached, my throat burned, and my stomach had been empty for too long, but I didn’t dare slow down. If I stopped, someone would see me. If someone saw me, they’d talk. And if they talked, he’d find me. The streets looked different when you didn’t have a place to go back to. Bigger. Meaner. Every light felt too bright, every shadow too scary. I pulled my hoodie tighter and kept my head down. People brushed past me, some looking, most not. I could’ve been anyone a girl who got lost, a runaway, a ghost walking through the wro

Aria’s POV The car door opened. For a second, I thought I was imagining it, because no one should have been here, not in this part of the street, not at this hour, not where everything was quiet and half dead. But the sound of it was too real, the metallic slam, the echo that followed, the faint shuffle of feet on wet ground, and immediately I knew it was danger, the kind that comes without warning. I squinted toward the light, my eyes stinging, and saw movement just a flicker at first, then shadows stretching and breaking into shapes, too many, too close. The headlights cut through the alley like a blade, harsh and white, and that’s when I saw them, men stepping out of the car, moving fast, their steps heavy and their shoes hitting the ground in perfect rhythm, like they had done this before. My body moved before my brain caught up. Run. I pushed myself up from the ground so fast I lost my balance, and my knees scraped against the pavement, but I didn’t stop. The only t

Aria’s POV After he left, I stayed where I was, still sitting on the floor, my back against the cold wall, staring at the door like maybe he’d walk back through it if I waited long enough. But he didn’t. The house stayed quiet. The silence stretched until it started to sound like something alive, crawling around inside my chest, filling every space he’d left empty. I didn’t cry at first. I just sat there with my hands gripping the edge of my knees, trying to feel something that wasn’t this hollow ache, but it kept growing anyway. It started small, just the weight of it in my throat, then it spread, pressing against my ribs, making it hard to breathe. It wasn’t anger, not anymore. It wasn’t even fear. It was that feeling you get when you finally stop running and realize you have nowhere left to go. I kept thinking about everything that led here every word, every fight, every moment that felt like it mattered. I thought about how close I’d come to dying, and how, somehow, this f