DamonShe was such a natural.At lying, that is.I sat down, watching how she so easily lied to my mother, the words flowing out so easily from her lips as they chatted away.I watched as Mother ate up every single word she said without a doubt, falling deep into her charm.One down, next up was the proposal and family dinner.Everything had to be perfect.I would say like her, but the memory of the betrayal slaps me back to reality.She was beautiful, in an almost unbelievable way. She had a grace to her that was evident in the way she sat and conversed with my mother, a feat that very few women and men could achieve.Mother had a way of reading people and had always been very judgmental of the people who came around me. This was not the case here, not in any way. It was, in fact, the opposite.She welcomed her in a way I had never seen, which I noticed came as a surprise to Aria..Ava as well. I watched her go from uncertain to calm, before finally relaxing into their conversation.
Damon “You know you didn’t have to go haywire on her like that,” Kingsley's voice, always my much-needed moral compass, resonates through the hallway as we make our way out of the building. He's always called himself my lost conscience.“She's a fraud and needs to be taught a lesson," I say. I had just shipped Ava home with the guards. "Come on. I wouldn’t say that of her," he says. "Well, you know nobody gets away with playing funny games with Damon Stone,” I say, refusing to see things his way. "Well, that’s-" "She can’t eat her cake and have it, Kingsley. She owes me, big time, and you know this," I continue, cutting him off. There’s no way I would believe she wasn’t Ava - not in this life, not in the next. Not after she played with my head and heart, and left me high and dry. I’ll make sure she pays for the damages. “Don’t you think there’s a slim chance she isn’t Ava as she says and is her twin sister?" "What trash are you spewing, Kingsley? Don’t you know who Ava i
Aria If there was a way I could claw my fingers into that smug face of Damon’s, I’d do that in a heartbeat. I've lost count of the number of nights I've lain awake, tossing and turning, in deep thoughts of the best way to gather any information about the whereabouts of my parents and Ava. Somehow, I feel even more trapped in “my” apartment, especially with the number of men standing guard on the other side of my bedroom door, and the countless CCTV cameras. How Ava put me in this mess in her absence is beyond my understanding. She had always been trouble, and this was the umpteenth time I was suffering for her wrongdoings. It happened every other day, as we were very similar. One time, I narrowly escaped being raped by her boyfriend – he could have sworn I was Ava. From a distance, you’d never guess the contrast in our personalities. She has a lot of explaining to do. Does she even think of me? Are my parents somewhere out there, actively searching for me the way I search for th
Aria “Thank you,” I say as Mark opens my door. I’m greeted by two waiters immediately I enter the restaurant. “You’re welcome, ma’am. Mr Stone is waiting on the rooftop. Follow me, please,” the blonde waiter says.“Thank you,” I smile at the waiter as she retrieves my coat.I look around the restaurant while following the waiter. Dim lights are everywhere, giving it a romantic ambience. The slow music in the background gives it a sophisticated but homely feeling. I can see why it’s a five-star restaurant. I lean against the elevator as soon as it closes, slipping back into my thoughts. How the hell am I supposed to act surprised about something I already know about? I roll my eyes. What was I thinking agreeing to this? I should have fought and disagreed with this whole sham.'Sure, you should have. I’m sure you’ll enjoy life in prison more than here,' the voice in my head mocks me.Shut up, I silently snap at the voice, 'Do you think I’ll be here if Ava didn’t go AWOL? I’m so goin
DamonI warned her.She wouldn't stop running her mouth, not even with the cameras on us. So yeah, she had it coming. The second she pushes one word too far, I crush my lips onto hers. She gasps—caught off guard—and I take full advantage, deepening the kiss before she has time to process it. Her hands push against me instinctively, but I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in, trapping her hands between us, right against my chest.I hold the kiss for a bit longer before pulling back, ignoring the lush feel of her lips on mine. I step back and hold her hands on my chest firmly— she looks like she wants to slap me, her eyes filled with so much anger and hatred. I get the anger, I shut her up while talking. But that look? I thought she’d like the kiss. It’s not like it’s our first rodeo. She tries to release her hands from where they’re trapped on my chest. Her chest heaved from both anger and breathlessness. I drag her with her hands on my chest, and she jerks forward, basically
AriaThe nerve of that bastard.I sat at the edge of the fountain I found when I stormed out of the room— not trusting myself to keep my composure around him any longer— running my fingers through the cold water, hoping it’d calm me down.Who does he think he is to kiss me without my permission? He must think I’m some toy he can play with and toss around just because I signed a contract with him. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he’ll have his way with me, whenever and however.I’m so angry at everything, including myself. At Damon, for always being an asshole. At myself, for not entirely hating the kiss, for as short as it lasted, my lips still tingled from it. At Ava, for putting me in this mess. She has a lot of explaining to do when I see her. Where the heck is she anyway?“I just proposed to you, and you run off like that? How do you think that makes me feel?” The voice behind me says, filled with amusement.I don’t have to look back to know who’s talking. I’d recognise
AriaThe doorbell blares just as I strap on my shoes.Talk about perfect timing. I head to my bed to grab my purse. The ‘nannies’ Damon hired had just left a few minutes ago, but I have to admit, they did a fantastic job on my face - I look ravishingly beautiful.I open the door to find Damon standing outside, his hands tucked into his pockets, looking annoyingly handsome like always. I look up to meet his gaze, but his eyes are elsewhere, scanning me from head to toe with an assessing glance. I step out of the apartment and close the door behind me“Do I meet your expectations, Mr Stone? I’m not dressed like I’m going to a park, am I?” I ask, the sarcasm in my voice finally catching his attention.He clears his throat, “This will do for tonight,” He says, then turns away without another glance and walks to the elevator.Would it kill this man to be civil? Who raised him? Wolves? I shake my head and proceed into the elevator on his tail.“The ‘nannies’ you hired did a pretty good job,
AriaI plaster a wide smile on my face as Damon leads me to sit.“It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so much,” I say, bowing slightly on my seat beside Damon. His mother is sat at the right, while his father is at the head of the table. She must be his favourite wife.There’s an awkward silence as I look around the dining table, scanning their faces to gauge their reactions to my presence. Michael Stone looks at me with an unreadable expression, studying me in an attempt to find something that gives me away. Damon has so much resemblance to his father, especially with his eyes.I smile at him and avert my eyes, shifting it to the person sitting by his left. It’s Damon’s stepmother, Grace Stone. I spent the past week familiarising myself with their names, looks, traits – you name it.She meets my eyes and shoots me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her son, James, is sitted beside her, gaping at me like he just saw a ghost. He averts his eyes from me quickly when I meet his
DamonThe car pulls in minutes later. Leo jumps out, opens the backseat. I ease her inside, wrapping her in a spare blanket from the trunk.She doesn’t fight it. Just shivers, eyes closed, the shell of her body telling a story she won’t say out loud.I climb in beside her.“Drive,” I tell Leo.The ride is silent.The engine hums. The wipers slice the rain. Her breathing is steady, shallow, like the whole night’s events have finally caught up to her.I glance at her.No mascara.No lipstick.No sharp retort sitting on her tongue.Just a girl who ran too far, chasing someone who may not want to be found.And all I want in this moment is to reach across the seat and hold her hand.But I don’t.Because I’m still the monster.Have been. Still am.I’m cut out of my reverie by the sound of Leo’s voice.“Where to? Home or?” He asks, his voice tight with hesitation, eyes flicking back to the rearview mirror.He already knows the answer. Or at least the dilemma. We can’t go home.Eunice will sn
DamonWhere the hell are you, A?Why couldn’t you just sit your ass down?Why?One week. That’s all I asked for. One week to get my head straight. To clear this goddamn fog that’s been clouding every thought since Paris.But no. Of course not.It’s already late. The sky’s dark, the streets are quieter than usual, and every fucking second that ticks by adds weight to my chest. I grip my phone like it might suddenly offer an answer, but instead it rings, the sharp sound slicing through the silence.Kingsley.“Any news?” he asks the second I pick up.“No, man. She’s not here. I found her phone in an alleyway, but she’s not here.” My voice comes out flat. Resigned.He exhales sharply. “Keep searching. She couldn’t have gotten far. Hopefully, she managed to get away."“Right. Thanks. This stays between us. You know what’s at stake.”“Of course,” he says, his tone grave. “My prayers are that no one’s recognised her in all this mess.”“Right. That too. It would be a fucking disaster.” I mutt
AriaI run.Hard.Faster than my legs have ever carried me.No time to think. No time to look back. Just the pounding of my feet against uneven pavement and the sound of my heartbeat screaming in my ears.Only when the sharp ache in my ribs forces me to stop do I realise how long I’ve been running. The lights have changed. Everything has.It’s dusk now—that eerie moment between light and night. The buildings cast long shadows across the cracked sidewalk, and the street is emptied out, save for a few too-quiet figures lingering on corners I don’t want to walk past. My gut twists at the sight of them.There’s no one.Not even a cab.This is a bad place.It’s not safe out here. Not by this time.No phone. Just the cash I stuffed in the bottom of my bag. Worse, no way to call for help, even if I wanted to. Even if I gave in and decided to crawl back.But I'm not going back. Not yet. Not until I figure out what the hell this is.A flicker of neon catches my eye up ahead—an old inn tucked b
DamonI sit there, locked into the chair like my body's forgotten how to move. Minutes bleed into hours. Nothing changes.Not the heaviness in my chest.Not the thick mess in my head.Sleep doesn't come.Of course it doesn’t.It’s not quiet either. Not in my mind. Not even close.The worst kind of noise is the one you can't turn off—the kind that keeps circling, tighter and tighter, until it feels like you’ll suffocate under the weight of your own damn thoughts.I must drift off at some point, because the blare of my phone rips me out of the fog- Leo.My hand fumbles over the nightstand, knocking over a glass before I finally grab it.Whatever it is can wait.It’s barely been two days since I left. Two days for God's sake.I let the phone ring out.But the second it stops, It rings again.Persistent.Something's wrong.A knot forms in my stomach before my brain even catches up.I yank the phone to my ear, the edge in my voice cutting sharper than intended.“What?”"I’m sorry, boss," L
AriaI run as fast as my legs can carry me, the slap of my shoes against the pavement echoing through the alley.No looking back.No thinking.Just moving.Only when my chest burns and my vision blurs from the rush do I dare slow down. A cab crawls by at the end of the street, and I wave frantically, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.The driver pulls up, and I jump in, slamming the door behind me.“Where to?” the driver asks, his tone already edged with irritation.“Sorry—I'm sorry, just give me a sec,” I rasp, fumbling for my phone in my bag. Hands shaking, I finally manage, “Take me to 47 Ashbury Lane, please.”The man grunts and starts the engine.I let my head fall back against the headrest, exhaling shakily.“You alright, ma’am?” he asks, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.“Yes. Yes, please. Just... step on it. Please.” The words fly out, desperate.He nods without another word, focusing on the road.The world outside blurs: buildings, st
AriaIt’s today.Today, I get to make either the best decision I’ve made in months…Or the worst one of my life.But honestly?What could be worse?What could possibly be worse than living like this?Caged. Paraded like a trophy. Watched. Controlled.Living every second like a marionette, dancing to someone else's strings.Two years of this?No.Hell no.The worst part isn’t even being forced into this stupid arrangement.It’s the hatred.The slow, creeping hatred building in my chest — not just for Damon Stone, but for myself.Mostly for myself.For every glance I can’t stop.For every damn moment my body betrays me.For every stupid, reckless heartbeat that pounds harder when his eyes darken in that particular way.For losing pieces of myself every day.For noticing things I shouldn't — the way his shirts hang on his frame, the rare roughness in his voice when he's tired, the way his eyes darken when he’s furious or… worse, protective.It’s sick.I’m sick.Of myself.Of the way my s
Damon The door clicks shut behind me as I walk out of her room.For a moment, I just stand across the door, staring at the closed door like it might change my mind from leaving.But it doesn’t.Of course, it doesn’t.Silence wraps around me, heavy and suffocating, only broken by the low buzz of my phone still vibrating in my hand.The final message from Kingsley flashes on the screen:~It's done. She’s Aria, not Ava. You were wrong, D.~I sink onto the edge of my bed, dropping the phone onto the sheets like it burned me.She’s not Ava.She never was.All this time…All the fights, the forced performances, the walls I shoved between us to feel safe —And she wasn’t even Ava.I bury my face in my hands, dragging in a shaky breath.A part of me always knew.From the first day in that hospital room, the way her eyes darted around, frantic and disoriented, like a woman waking up from the worst kind of nightmare.It wasn’t guilt.It wasn’t deceit.It was fear.Real, raw fear.And still, I
AriaThe second my eyes peel open, confusion sinks its claws into me.I blink hard. Once. Twice.I'm not in my room.Soft morning light streams across unfamiliar sheets.Oh.Of course.His room. His bed.'It's you again, A, doing the very thing you said you wouldn't — drifting closer to Damon Stone like a fool,' The voice in my head lashes at me.My legs swing off the bed before I can think better of it. The coldness of the floor beneath my feet jolts me more awake.Through the slightly open balcony doors, I catch sight of him — Damon — leaning against the railing, one hand wrapped around a mug, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants.Staring off into nothing, like he’s carrying the weight of the whole damn world on his back."You up?" His voice cuts through the air. He doesn't even turn around.How the hell does he do that?Does he have eyes at the back of his head now?"Yeah," I say, my voice low. "Thanks for letting me crash here."He doesn’t respond. Just keeps staring
Damon“What? Put me through to them. Right now,” I bark out, my voice cutting sharp through the early morning haze.“Alright, boss,” the guard says, backing out quickly. I shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, already feeling my blood pressure climbing.The phone rings, not even three seconds later, and I snatch it up.“The logs? What am I hearing? What about them?”“They've been tampered with. This time, it's bad. Worse than before. We’re going to have to recommend an evacuation. At least you and your wife. For some days, maybe a week tops,” the security head says, tone grim.For a second, the words don’t land.Then they do.“What the hell are you on about?” I snap. “I didn’t pay that much money to be thrown out of my house in under a day. It was just last night that we confirmed the updated protocols. With that man. Whatever his name was.”There’s a beat of hesitation on the other end.Then—"What man, sir?”I freeze.“What the hell do you mean, what man?