With a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped out into the lobby, her heart still racing but her mind sharper, more determined. No one can know, she told herself. No one can know about my plan—not until it's too late for them to stop me.
As she walked through the lobby and out into the cool night air, her mind spun with a hundred questions, a thousand fears. Who could possibly know? And how much did they know? She glanced around, half-expecting to see someone watching her, someone lurking in the shadows, waiting for her to slip up.
But the street was empty, quiet, and she forced herself to keep walking, each step more purposeful than the last. If they knew about her plan, then they also knew how dangerous she could be if cornered. She was no helpless damsel, no naïve girl lost in the allure of a handsome stranger. She was on a mission, and nothing—not even cryptic threats from mysterious sources—would deter her.
Clutching her phone tightly, she made a silent vow to herself. They might try to scare me, but I won't back down. Not until I've finished what I started.
15 minutes ago
---
Damien's touch lingered on her cheek, even after she stepped out of his office. Her heart raced as she walked down the hallway, clutching her bag tightly. She had to remind herself why she was here—to exact revenge, not to get caught up in feelings she had no business entertaining.
Her resolve strengthened as she approached the elevator, but just as the doors slid open, her phone buzzed in her pocket. The vibration jolted her already restless nerves.
Pulling it out, she glanced at the screen. A new message flashed. The sender's name made her throat tighten.
"Baby, I saw you in front of Blackwood Company. Are you still there? Do you want me to pick you up?"
Her breath hitched, and the walls around her seemed to close in. Her fingers trembled as she reread the message. It was a simple text, yet it carried an ominous weight. She scanned the lobby and then the street outside through the glass doors.
It felt like eyes were everywhere. The weight of invisible gazes bore down on her, making her skin crawl.
Panic surged through her veins as she stepped hurriedly into the elevator. She jabbed the button for the ground floor repeatedly, desperate for the doors to close before anyone saw her.
The metal box was supposed to be a sanctuary, but instead, it felt like a cage. She leaned against the mirrored wall, trying to catch her breath. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and wide-eyed.
"Calm down, Aria," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "You're fine. Nobody saw you. You're just imagining things."
But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
Back to the present, her hands clenched into fists around her phone. Her heart thudded violently in her chest as she struggled to compose herself.
"I'm not scared," she said aloud, her voice steadier this time. "I'm not scared."
Her inner voice responded harshly:
You don't have the luxury to be scared. You've been given a second chance. Don't waste it.
She tightened her grip on the phone and straightened her posture. She had come too far to back out now.
"I will take revenge," she vowed under her breath.
She glanced down at the message again. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She had to respond—she couldn't let him suspect anything. Not now.
"No, there's no need. I'm back home."
Her fingers moved swiftly, typing the message and hitting send before she could overthink it.
A few moments passed, and then her phone vibrated again.
"Alright, baby. I'll come by tomorrow. Rest well."
She scoffed at the words. Rest well? How ironic. There hadn't been a night of peace for her since this all began. But she couldn't dwell on it now. Damien was waiting for her, and she needed to keep her focus.
As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Aria stepped out into the dimly lit parking lot. The air was crisp, but it did little to soothe her frayed nerves. She hurried to her car, her heels clicking against the pavement, each step echoing in the empty space.
Sliding into the driver's seat, she locked the doors and let out a shaky breath. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—Damien, the text, the plan. Everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of chaos.
She started the car, the engine's hum grounding her slightly. As she pulled out of the lot, her mind drifted back to Damien.
The way he had looked at her earlier, his dark eyes piercing through her walls, had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. And that touch—gentle yet possessive—had left an imprint she couldn't erase.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memory. "Focus, Aria. This isn't about him. He's just a means to an end."
But as much as she tried to convince herself, the truth lingered at the edges of her thoughts. Damien wasn't like anyone she had ever met. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and far too compelling for her own good.
Her phone buzzed again, breaking her reverie. She glanced at it, expecting another message from him.
Instead, it was a notification from an unknown number.
Aria gritted her teeth and deleted the message. She couldn't afford distractions, not now.
When she finally arrived home, she double-checked the locks on her doors and windows before settling down in the living room. Her own room felt too quiet, the silence pressing down on her like a weight.
She opened her laptop, determined to go over the details of her plan again. But as she stared at the screen, her mind wandered back to Damien.
His office had been cold and impersonal, yet his presence had filled the space with an almost magnetic energy. She had felt it the moment she walked in, and it had only intensified when he closed the distance between them.