The silence was deafening.
Aria stood in the dimly lit corridor of the Blackwood mansion, her heart pounding in her chest. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, and for a brief second, she felt the sharp sting of the past, of the life she had once known.
"You think you can run from me, Aria?" Logan's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Aria didn't turn around, but she could feel him—the way his presence filled the space behind her. His words were tainted with venom, but it was the fear that crept up her spine, the dread of what he would do next, that made her heart race.
The echo of her first life—the suffocating feeling of being bound to him, of being his pawn—threatened to take over. But she pushed it away. She had learned. She had become stronger. This was no longer the Aria who cowered before him, who let him use her as he wished. She had a plan. She was no longer weak.
