Serena didn't sleep. She couldn't.
All night, she saw the flash of silver braids, the cocky smirk, the way Aria had leaned in like she owned the air between them. Her uncle's voice telling her to focus rang in her ears, but it didn't matter. She had already lost focus the second their eyes met.
By morning, Serena ditched the waiting car again. Another chauffeur would report back, but she didn't care. Let her father rage. Let her uncle sneer. For once, she needed to chase something that wasn't wrapped in her family's chains.
Ashveil's glass towers shrank behind her, replaced by crumbling brick and rusted steel. The streets here weren't lined with boutiques—they were cracked, littered, buzzing with vendors hawking knock-off perfume and cheap cigarettes. Women leaned in doorways, makeup smeared from a night that hadn't ended yet. A group of kids played soccer barefoot with a dented can, their laughter too sharp to be innocent.
Serena tugged her coat tighter, heels clicking against broken pavement. She stuck out here. Too clean. Too obvious.
But she found her.
Aria sat on the stoop of a rundown apartment block, smoke curling from another cigarette. The building's windows were cracked, paint peeling, graffiti screaming names of people probably long dead. She looked like she belonged to it, sharp and unshakable.
"You really can't stay the fuck away, can you?" Aria said, smirk curling as Serena stopped in front of her.
Serena's jaw clenched. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Sweetheart, if I was flattering myself, you'd already be in my lap."
Serena's chest burned, heat rising up her neck. She hated how easily this woman unraveled her. "Why here?" she snapped, waving at the crumbling building, the trash-strewn street. "Why crawl back into this shit hole when you clearly want to be somewhere else?"
Aria's smile vanished. Just like that, steel slid into her eyes.
"Because this shit hole is mine," she said flatly. "It's the only place I don't have to beg to exist. You wouldn't understand."
Serena opened her mouth, then shut it.
No—she didn't understand. She had grown up with servants, security, cars with tinted windows. Her pain was a cage lined in velvet. Aria's pain was hunger and cold nights, the kind no money could erase.
Aria flicked ash onto the sidewalk, her voice rough. "You've had everything handed to you. All you've got to fight is boredom. Me? I've had to fight for every damn bite of food, every inch of space, every reason to stay alive. So don't stand here in your thousand-dollar shoes and tell me how the fuck I should live."
The words hit hard. Serena's throat tightened, but she forced herself to stand taller.
"You think having money makes it easier?" she snapped. "Try being born with your entire life decided before you could walk. Try being nothing more than your family's fucking puppet. You think freedom comes with silk dresses? No. It's chains you can't even see."
Aria studied her, smoke hanging between them.
For once, she didn't smirk.
"You really believe that?" Aria asked quietly.
Serena swallowed, hard. "Every day."
Silence stretched between them, heavy as the city pressing down. For a second, Serena thought she saw something shift in Aria's eyes—understanding, maybe, or the dangerous beginning of empathy.
But then a car screeched around the corner, horn blaring. Two men leaned out the windows, laughing, bottles clinking as they shouted at a girl on the sidewalk.
Aria's jaw tightened. She dropped her cigarette, crushing it under her boot.
"Get inside," she muttered.
"What?" Serena blinked.
"I said get the fuck inside!"
Before Serena could argue, one of the men noticed her. His laughter cut off. His eyes widened, recognition flashing. The Vale name carried weight everywhere, even in the dirt.
"Holy shit," he shouted. "That's a fucking Vale!"
The car slowed.
Aria grabbed Serena's wrist, yanking her into the building's dark stairwell. "Move!"
Serena stumbled, heels scraping concrete. Aria shoved the door shut behind them, breath coming fast. The stairwell reeked of piss and mold. A bulb flickered weakly overhead.
Serena braced against the wall, chest heaving, glaring at Aria. "Don't touch me again—"
"Shut up," Aria hissed. She pressed her ear to the door, waiting. The car outside idled, voices echoing. A bottle shattered against the sidewalk.
Finally, the sound faded, tires screeching as the car took off.
Aria exhaled, shoulders loosening. She turned back to Serena, eyes dark. "This is your problem. You don't belong here. One look at you and the whole fucking block lights up."
Serena's pulse still raced, adrenaline hot in her blood. "And yet you dragged me in here anyway."
Aria smirked faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Guess I didn't feel like watching you get chewed up and spit out on my doorstep."
Serena stared at her, something shifting sharp inside her chest. She should leave. She should call her driver, crawl back into her father's world, and pretend none of this ever happened.
But she didn't move.
Aria leaned against the wall, folding her arms. "You're trouble, princess."
Serena stepped closer, voice low, defiant. "So are you."
For a moment, the air between them burned. Too close. Too dangerous. The kind of space that begged to be crossed.
Then a door upstairs slammed, someone shouting in the distance, footsteps stomping down the hall.
The spell shattered.
Aria pushed off the wall, brushing past Serena. "Go home. Before you make me regret pulling you out of the fire."
Serena grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. The contact was sharp, electric.
Aria froze, eyes flashing.
Serena's voice came out rough, almost a whisper: "Don't you dare disappear on me again."
Aria's smile this time was bitter, edged with something that almost hurt.
"Careful what you wish for, princess. You might not like the cost."
And then she pulled free, climbing the stairs two at a time, vanishing into the shadows.
Serena stayed in the stairwell, chest tight, every nerve screaming. She didn't know whether to scream or chase her.
But she knew one thing for sure—
She was already in too deep.