The Devil’s Trap
1230 Words
Ch. 6 — The Devil’s Trap
(Dual POV — Aria & Damian)
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Aria’s POV
I didn’t sleep.
Not a second.
Damian’s words kept replaying in my head:
> “If Sofia makes another move… eliminate her.”
I sat curled up on the massive bed, knees hugged to my chest, staring at the door as if someone might burst through at any moment.
Sofia.
My best friend.
My safe place since college, my anchor through every storm.
Was she… working with Victor?
And if she was, what did that make me? A pawn? A liability? A target?
I didn’t want to believe it. But I couldn’t ignore what I’d overheard.
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The soft hum of the penthouse door opening pulled me out of my spiral.
I heard muffled voices — Damian giving instructions to his men. Heavy boots. The sound of weapons being checked.
War was brewing, and I was caught in the middle.
I slipped off the bed, padded toward the glass wall of the balcony, and stared down at the city below.
From up here, Los Angeles looked peaceful — glittering lights, silent streets — but I knew better now.
This city was crawling with shadows.
And I was standing right in the center of them.
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Damian’s POV
“Keep two men on the lower levels,” I ordered Cole, my head of security. “No one in or out without clearance. If anyone even breathes near her, I want to know.”
Cole nodded. “Understood, boss.”
I turned away from him, my chest tight, my thoughts sharper than broken glass.
Victor Hale was escalating, and fast.
The attack at Aria’s office wasn’t random — it was a message.
Now Sofia was on my radar, and if my instincts were right, Victor had turned her into his leverage.
And leverage against me never ended well.
But Aria… she was different. She didn’t belong in this world, and I hated that I’d dragged her into it.
I’d never wanted to care about anyone.
Caring got people killed.
But every time I looked at her, the walls I’d built cracked a little more.
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I stepped into the living room, expecting to find her asleep, but instead, I saw her standing barefoot by the balcony, her silk robe clinging to her frame as city lights painted her in silver.
She turned when she sensed me, eyes wide, restless.
I recognized the look — fear mixed with defiance.
“You should be resting,” I said quietly.
She crossed her arms. “Hard to sleep when my life’s become a crime thriller.”
I almost smiled, but it faded quickly. “I’m handling it.”
“That’s the problem, Damian,” she shot back. “You’re ‘handling it’ like I’m some piece on a chessboard. When were you going to tell me Sofia’s involved?”
Her words hit like a blade.
My jaw tightened. “You overheard.”
“Answer me,” she demanded, stepping closer. “Is it true?”
“Yes.” I didn’t soften it. Lies would only destroy us faster.
Her face paled. I saw the betrayal flash in her eyes, the heartbreak she tried to hide.
She turned away from me, gripping the railing until her knuckles went white.
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Aria’s POV
I didn’t cry. Not yet.
But inside, something cracked.
Sofia.
My Sofia.
The girl who pulled all-nighters with me in law school, who held my hand through heartbreak, who knew every secret I had.
And now… she was working for Victor Hale.
The same man who’d sent killers into my office.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
“Because I wasn’t sure,” Damian replied, his voice low, steady. “And until I’m sure, I don’t make accusations.”
“And if you are sure?” I asked, turning to face him. “What then? You… kill her?”
His silence was louder than any answer.
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“You can’t,” I snapped, anger replacing my fear. “You don’t get to decide who lives and dies just because it fits your empire’s rules.”
“Aria,” he said softly, stepping toward me. “If Sofia is with Victor, she’s a danger to you. I protect what’s mine.”
I flinched at the word mine.
I wanted to hate him for saying it, but the worst part was… a part of me didn’t.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed sharply on the table.
He glanced at the screen, his jaw hardening.
Victor Hale was calling.
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Damian’s POV
“Leave,” I told Aria, motioning toward the bedroom.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m not hiding.”
I exhaled sharply but didn’t argue. I answered the call.
“Victor,” I said coolly.
A low chuckle came through the line. “Damian, old friend. You’ve been busy. Hiding lawyers in your penthouse now? Risky.”
“Say what you want,” I replied, pacing slowly. “But come near her again and I’ll bury you.”
“Ah, there’s the Damian I remember,” Victor drawled. “Always so protective… when it suits you. But here’s the thing — you’re running out of time. Hand over what’s mine, or Aria bleeds.”
I froze. My grip tightened on the phone.
“You touch her,” I said, my voice low, deadly, “and I’ll burn your entire world to the ground.”
Victor laughed softly. “We’ll see who burns first.”
The line went dead.
---
Aria’s POV
The look on Damian’s face terrified me.
It wasn’t fear.
It was fury.
Controlled, cold, lethal fury.
“What did he want?” I asked, even though part of me didn’t want to know.
“He wants something I have,” Damian said, his voice like ice. “And now he’s willing to use you to get it.”
“What do you have?” I pressed.
He hesitated for a moment before answering:
“Evidence. Enough to destroy him.”
I blinked. “Then give it to him!”
“No.” His refusal was sharp, final. “If I hand this over, Victor wins. And I don’t lose.”
His stubbornness both infuriated me and terrified me.
Because if Victor really wanted this so badly, it meant one thing:
He wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead.
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Cliffhanger Ending
Later that night, I crept out of the bedroom, needing air, needing space.
Damian was in his study, barking orders to his men. I walked softly past him toward the elevator.
I shouldn’t have been there.
I shouldn’t have seen it.
The penthouse security feed flickered on the wall-mounted screen — dozens of live camera angles.
And in the bottom corner of one feed… I saw her.
Sofia.
Standing in the lobby.
She was talking to someone.
Someone I recognized from the news.
Victor Hale.
And then I saw it — Victor handing her an envelope, Sofia tucking it into her purse, glancing over her shoulder as if she didn’t want to be seen.
My best friend.
Selling me out.
The elevator doors slid open behind me with a soft chime.
Before I could step back, a deep voice murmured from the shadows:
> “Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
I turned — and came face to face with Victor Hale himself.
- Writer
