Author's pov
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.
"Stay away from Damien Blackwood, or you'll regret it."
Her heart froze.
She pulled over to the side of the road, her hands trembling as she read the message again. Who could have sent this? And how did they know about her connection to Damien?
She looked around, her paranoia returning in full force. Was someone following her? Watching her? The shadows outside seemed to shift, and every passing car felt like a potential threat.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to think logically. This wasn't the first time she had received a threatening message. It was just another scare tactic, meant to throw her off her game.
She wouldn't let it work.
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. The apartment 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.
Her fingers brushed against her cheek unconsciously, remembering the warmth of his touch.
"Stop it," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "He's not the one you're doing this for. Remember why you're here."
She pulled up the file she had been working on—a dossier filled with information about her target. Photos, documents, notes—it was all there, a painstakingly compiled record of the person who had destroyed her life.
Her gaze hardened as she looked at the images on the screen. She had waited years for this moment, endured countless sleepless nights and unimaginable pain to get here. She couldn't let anything—or anyone—distract her now.
But even as she reaffirmed her resolve, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered a warning.
Be careful, Aria. Revenge is a dangerous game. And Damien Blackwood is a dangerous man.
She closed the laptop with a sigh, leaning back against the couch. Tomorrow would be another day, another step closer to her goal.
But tonight, as much as she hated to admit it, her thoughts were consumed by Damien. His touch, his gaze, his words—they were a distraction she couldn't afford, yet one she couldn't seem to escape.
As she drifted off to sleep, one final thought lingered in her mind:
What if Damien wasn't just a means to an end? What if he was something more?
Aria woke up the next morning with a flutter of nervous anticipation. The first rays of sunlight seeped through her curtains, painting her room in hues of golden warmth. She reached for her phone immediately, her heart racing as she unlocked it, hoping for a call or text from Damian. But the screen stared back at her, devoid of any notifications. Her face fell, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Don't worry, Aria," she whispered to herself, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest. "He must be busy. It's only been 12 hours since you talked to him. Give it some time. Patience, remember? God won't let you down. He gave you a second chance, so don't lose hope now."
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to smile, even if it was a little strained. She knew Damian had his reasons, and she refused to let negativity cloud her mind. Determined to start her day on a positive note, she slid out of bed and padded toward the bathroom. The cool tiles felt refreshing under her feet, grounding her as she went through her morning routine.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face with cold water, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her big, doe-like eyes, framed by long lashes, gazed back at her. Her cheeks were naturally flushed with a soft pink hue, and her lips, though bare, had a rosy tint that gave her a youthful charm. Aria had always been beautiful in a subtle, unassuming way. She didn't rely on makeup to enhance her looks because her natural features were captivating enough.
She tied her long, wavy hair into a loose ponytail and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her. It felt therapeutic, washing away her doubts and renewing her confidence. Once done, she dried herself off and reached for the yellow sundress she had chosen the previous night. It was simple yet elegant, with a flowy skirt that brushed against her knees. The color complemented her glowing complexion, giving her an air of sunny optimism.
After applying a thin layer of lip balm to keep her lips soft and hydrated, she gave herself one final glance in the mirror. She wasn't overly concerned with appearances, but she couldn't deny that the dress highlighted her perfectly balanced figure. She wasn't too thin, nor overly curvy — just the right combination to turn heads without trying. Aria was every boy's dream girl, though she remained blissfully unaware of the effect she had on others.
Satisfied with her look, she stepped out of her room and headed to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted her, instantly lifting her spirits. She poured herself a cup and sipped it slowly, the warmth spreading through her body.
While Aria sipped her coffee, her mom walked into the kitchen, her face lit up with a warm smile.
"Good morning, love," her mom greeted, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "I would have poured it for you, dear. Why didn't you call for me?"
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