The morning sun hadn’t yet warmed the windowsill when Aria’s phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand. She stirred, face buried in her pillow, blindly reaching for it. Five missed calls. Three from Lucy. Two from Mia. A text from Lucy read:
“Aria… check the studio’s IG. Now.”
Still groggy, she sat up, brows furrowed as she unlocked her phone. The moment the app loaded, her breath caught in her throat.
There it was.
A high-resolution photo of her and Killian at the exhibit - her lips pressed to his, his hand resting gently on her jaw. Framed in gallery lighting like they were part of the art.
The caption above the post read:
“Heir to Fortune. Heart Stolen by a Nobody?”
A video clip below the image played on loop. The kiss. The moment after. Her stunned face. His calm one. Aria sta
