Aria's POV
"We have to go down there," I said, my voice shaking. "If we don't show up for brunch, they'll come looking for us."
Kade's jaw was tight, his eyes cold and calculating. "If you walk into that room, Damien will recognize you."
"Maybe not." I was grasping at straws. "I look different now. Darker hair. No glasses. Three years older."
"You really want to bet your life on maybe?"
No. But what choice did we have? If we ran, Mom and Victor would panic. They'd call the police. And if Damien was downstairs, he'd know exactly why we ran.
"We need a plan," I said, trying to think past the terror clouding my brain. "Something that gets me out of meeting him face-to-face."
Kade paced my room like a caged animal. "I could say you're sick. Food poisoning. Something contagious."
"My mom will want to check on me. She'll bring him up here to prove I'm real." I knew her too well. She'd want to show off her daughter to Victor's important business partner.
"Then we make you unrecognizable." Kade grabbed my face, studying it intensely. "Different makeup. Hair up. Glasses if you have them. Act completely different from who you were three years ago."
"I don't have glasses anymore. I got contacts."
"Then we'll figure something else out." He was still holding my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. For a moment, despite everything, I felt safe.
Then Mom knocked again. "Aria? Sweetie, are you coming?"
Kade dropped his hands and stepped back. "We're out of time. Stay behind me when we go down. Don't make eye contact with him. If he asks you anything, pretend you're shy."
"I am shy," I muttered.
"Good. Use it." He moved to the door, then turned back. "And Aria? If anything goes wrong, if he so much as looks at you funny, you run. Straight to your room, lock the door, and call 911. Understand?"
I nodded, even though running felt impossible. My legs were jelly.
We walked downstairs together. Every step felt like walking toward my own execution.
The dining room was bright and cheerful. Mom and Victor were already seated. And across from them, sipping coffee like he owned the world, sat Damien Cross.
He looked exactly like I remembered. Smooth, handsome, with dead eyes that smiled but never felt anything.
My blood turned to ice.
"There you are!" Mom beamed. "Kade, Aria, come meet Damien. He's one of Victor's most important business partners."
Damien stood, extending his hand to Kade first. "Good to see you again, Kade. Business is treating you well, I hope?"
"Always," Kade replied smoothly, shaking his hand. His entire demeanor had changed—cold, professional, dangerous.
Then Damien turned to me.
I kept my eyes down, focusing on the floor. My heart hammered so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
"And this must be the lovely daughter Serena keeps talking about," Damien said, his voice like silk over razor blades.
"Aria, don't be rude," Mom chided. "Say hello to Mr. Cross."
I had no choice. I looked up, meeting his eyes for a split second before looking away. "Hello."
Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me.
Damien stared at me for what felt like hours but was probably only seconds. "Aria. What a beautiful name. Have we met before? You look familiar."
My throat closed up. I couldn't speak.
"She has one of those faces," Kade cut in smoothly, moving to stand slightly in front of me. "People always think they know her."
"Hmm." Damien's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps. Well, it's lovely to meet you, Aria. I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other now that our families are connected."
The threat in his words was barely hidden.
We sat down for brunch, and I barely tasted anything. I kept my head down, spoke only when directly asked questions, and tried to become invisible.
But I felt Damien's eyes on me the entire time.
He was suspicious. He didn't recognize me completely, but something had triggered his instincts.
"So, Aria," Damien said suddenly, making me jump. "What do you do? Are you in school?"
"Columbia," I whispered. "Art history."
"Art history." He smiled, and it was predatory. "I knew a girl once who studied art history. Back when I lived in New Jersey. Three years ago. She disappeared rather mysteriously."
The room spun. He knew. He was playing with me, like a cat with a mouse.
"How interesting," Mom said, oblivious. "Small world!"
"Very small," Damien agreed, his eyes locked on mine. "I've always believed that the past has a way of catching up with us. Don't you agree, Aria?"
Before I could answer, Kade's phone rang. He glanced at it and stood abruptly. "I need to take this. Business emergency."
He left the room, and I felt panic rising. Don't leave me alone with him.
"Such a hard worker," Victor said proudly. "Just like you, Damien."
"Yes, Kade and I have a lot in common," Damien said, but his eyes were still on me. "Tell me, Aria, do you have any siblings? Any family back in... where did Serena say you were from?"
"Ohio," Mom answered for me. "Just the two of us. Aria's father passed away years ago."
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Damien's voice dripped fake sympathy. "How did he die, if you don't mind me asking?"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. He was asking because he knew. He was the one who killed my father.
"Car accident," Mom said, her voice sad. "Very tragic."
Damien tilted his head, studying me. "A car accident. How... unfortunate."
Kade returned, his face grim. He caught my eye and gave the tiniest shake of his head. Something was wrong.
"I apologize, but I need to steal Aria for a moment," Kade said. "There's an issue with her room—a pipe leak. The maintenance team needs access."
It was a lie, but a good one.
"Of course," Victor said. "Go ahead."
I stood on shaking legs and followed Kade out of the dining room. The moment we were out of sight, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the elevator.
"What's happening?" I whispered.
"Marcus just called. Someone hacked into the building's security system thirty minutes ago. All the cameras are looped. We have no idea who's in the building right now."
"What does that mean?"
Kade's expression was deadly serious. "It means Damien didn't come alone. He brought his people. And they're already inside."
The elevator doors opened. Standing inside, smiling like the devil himself, was a man I didn't recognize. He was holding a gun.
"Mr. Cross would like to speak with you privately, Isabella," the man said. "Both of you. Come quietly, or your mother and Mr. Thornfield have a very bad day."