"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Ariiiiaaa—happy birthday to you!" Zara's off-key but enthusiastic voice rang through the phone speaker, instantly bringing a smile to Aria's face.
"Zara!" Aria laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat up on the edge of her bed. "You're insane."
Zara chuckled. "Insanely in love with you, duh. And guess what? I'm coming over. You're not spending your birthday holed up in a mansion with broody Mr. Tall-Dark-ice-and-Dangerous. I'm kidnapping you."
"Hold on—Zara—"
But Zara had already hung up.
Minutes later, Miss Hayes, the house manager, knocked gently on Damian's study door, where he and Jaxon were in discussion. "Sir, there's a young woman here to see Miss Aria. She says her name is Zara."
Damian arched a brow. "Let her in."
Zara marched into the grand foyer like she owned the place, dressed in a crop jacket, leather boots, and a sparkling attitude. When Aria came rushing down the stairs, the girls collided in a tight hug.
"You look like a princess trapped in a billionaire's tower," Zara teased. "You seriously need air, sunshine, and a shot of tequila."
"You're ridiculous," Aria said, laughing as she tugged Zara upstairs to help her pick out an outfit.
Zara's jaw dropped the second Aria stepped out in a deep red off-shoulder gown that hugged her waist and barely brushed her knees. "Girl. Damian's going to eat his words and maybe choke on them."
Aria flushed. "Zara, stop—"
Downstairs, Damian was mid-conversation with Jaxon at the bottom of the stairs when Aria descended the staircase. The room fell quiet. His eyes locked on her, drinking in every detail—the delicate sweep of her hair, the way the red complimented her skin, and how unsure she looked in heels.
As she reached the last step, Aria faltered.
Without thinking, Damian and caught her effortlessly, his arm strong around her waist. Everything slowed. His breath hitched. Her perfume was faint but intoxicating. Aria looked up, lips parted, cheeks pink.
"You look..." Damian's voice dropped. "Beautiful."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Happy birthday, Aria."
Her heart skipped. How did he know? I never told him.
Before she could ask, Zara barreled in. "Okay. Let's get going. We've got wine waiting."
Damian scowled. "You're not leaving the house without Mikhail . He will drive you."
Zara rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir.
They went to a stylish middle-class restaurant tucked away in the heart of the city. Between shared plates, laughter, and too many glasses of red wine, Aria relaxed for the first time in weeks.
"You've got to see the waiter's face when you winked at him," Aria giggled.
"I was buying us a free dessert!" Zara said, mock-offended. "You're welcome."
Their laughter quieted a little as Aria leaned in. "Zara... I found something strange."
Zara raised a brow. "Define strange."
Aria's expression sobered. "I found a photograph. It was hidden in Elena's room. Damian's sister."
"The one who's... gone?"
Aria nodded slowly. "And behind her in the photo was Amelia."
Zara's mouth dropped. "Wait. Your cousin Amelia?"
"Yes. But it's not just that. At the back of the photo, someone wrote: 'She knows. Remove her before she ruins it all.'" Aria paused, watching Zara's eyes widen. "It doesn't make sense. Why would Amelia be in that photo? She never mentioned knowing Damian... or Elena."
Zara's wine glass hovered midair. "Aria, that's creepy."
"I know. I feel like I've walked into the middle of a story I was never meant to read. And somethng tells me that Amelia was involved with what ever went on with Elena."
Before Zara could say more, Aria's gaze shifted outside. A figure in a black hoodie stood across the street, watching them. Her body tensed.
Zara noticed. "What's wrong?"
Aria blinked. The figure was gone.
"Nothing. I... thought I saw someone."
They tried to shake it off with more wine and desserts, and by the time they returned to Damian's estate, they were giggling messes.
Damian and Jaxon were still in the living room when the girls staggered in. Zara bumped into a vase. Aria clung to the wall.
Jaxon raised a brow. "Well. Someone's had fun."
Damian stood up with a sigh. "Jaxon, take her friend to the guest room."
As Jaxon helped Zara up the stairs, she slurred, "You're cute, you know? Like... annoyingly handsome. Do you sleep in suits?"
Jaxon frowned.
Zara grinned before flopping face-first into the bed, muttering something about kissing a Greek statue.
Meanwhile, Damian turned to Aria, frowning. "You're drunk."
"I'm not," she hiccuped.
"You can't walk straight."
"I'm perfectly—whoa—"
He caught her again, sighing in frustration as he carried her bridal-style up the stairs. In her room, he drew a warm bath, turned his back as she changed, and handed her a towel.
She murmured a thank-you and dried off slowly.
Damian returned from the walk-in closet with a pair of soft cotton pajamas in hand, only to pause in the doorway.
Aria was already asleep.
Still wrapped in the white towel, her damp hair spilled over the pillows like silk, her breathing soft and slow. Her legs were slightly curled, one arm flung above her head. The curve of her lips looked like they were made for smiling, but right now, she looked heartbreakingly fragile.
Damian exhaled slowly, his chest tightening.
He placed the pajamas quietly on the nearby armchair and approached the bed. His gaze lingered on her face, taking in the faint redness of wine on her cheeks, the small crease between her brows even in sleep.
"She shouldn't be here," he murmured under his breath.
His hand hovered near her cheek but never touched. He clenched it into a fist instead.
Don't fall for her.
But as he turned to leave, something caught his eye on the nightstand — a folded photograph. He recognized it instantly. It wasn't there before.
Damian reached for it cautiously, and as he flipped it over, a jolt ran through him. The photograph was of Elena, smiling in a summer dress, her arms around Amelia, Aria's cousin.
But it was the handwriting scrawled on the back that made his blood run cold:
"She knows. Remove her before she ruins it all."
His fingers trembled around the photo.
The room suddenly felt colder.
He looked back at Aria.
"What the hell are you digging into, Aria?" he whispered.
Then he turned off the bedside lamp, but his mind stayed awake long into the night, haunted by faces of the past… and the girl now sleeping in the center of it all.
Someone was lying. Someone close. And Damian wasn't sure if Aria had a hand in it.