Chapter 9 - A Perfect Lie
1028 Words
Ariana’s POV
By the next evening, I was already exhausted.
Not physically alone—
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Completely drained.
Mrs. Carter didn’t go easy on me. From the moment I woke up, it was training, correction, repetition… over and over again until even breathing felt like something I had to get right.
And now—
I stood in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in a fitted black gown that hugged my body in a way that made me feel… exposed.
Not beautiful.
Not confident.
Just… seen.
“Shoulders back,” Mrs. Carter said from behind me.
I straightened immediately.
“Relax your expression. You look tense.”
I tried.
But my reflection betrayed me.
My eyes looked tired.
My smile looked forced.
My entire existence looked like a lie.
Because it was.
“This is a simple dinner,” she continued. “Business associates. Investors. People who know Miss Alina well.”
My chest tightened.
People who know her.
Perfect.
“No mistakes tonight,” she added calmly.
No pressure.
I swallowed. “I understand.”
Did I?
Not really.
The venue was a high-end private restaurant.
Elegant. Dim lighting. Quiet conversations layered over soft music.
Everything about it screamed wealth.
Control.
Expectation.
As soon as we entered, heads turned.
Of course they did.
Damien walked beside me like he owned the entire building—which, honestly, he probably did.
I stayed close, matching his pace, my expression calm, controlled.
Mrs. Carter’s voice echoed in my head:
Don’t overthink. Just be her.
Easy to say.
Hard to survive.
“Damien,” a man greeted, stepping forward with a smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Damien replied smoothly.
Then the man turned to me.
“And you must be Alina.”
My heart skipped.
Smile.
“Of course,” I said softly.
He chuckled. “You’ve changed.”
My stomach dropped.
Changed?
In what way?
I forced a light laugh. “Is that a bad thing?”
He studied me for a second too long.
“Not at all,” he said finally. “Just… different.”
Different.
That word again.
I nodded politely, but inside—
I was panicking.
Dinner started.
And every second felt like a test.
“What would you like to drink, ma’am?” the waiter asked.
My mind blanked.
Mrs. Carter’s voice flashed in my head—
She prefers red wine.
“I’ll have red wine,” I said.
The waiter nodded.
Across the table, Damien didn’t say anything.
But I felt it.
His attention.
Watching.
Waiting.
The conversation flowed around me—business deals, investments, future plans.
I barely followed.
I just smiled when needed, nodded when appropriate, spoke only when spoken to.
Perfect.
Controlled.
Safe.
Until—
“Alina,” a woman across the table said suddenly.
My eyes lifted.
“Yes?”
She smiled warmly. Too warmly.
“I heard you’ve been avoiding charity events lately. That’s surprising. You used to love them.”
My heart dropped.
Charity events?
I didn’t know anything about that.
Think.
Think.
“I’ve just been… focusing on other things,” I said carefully.
She tilted her head.
“Really? That’s not like you.”
My fingers tightened under the table.
“I guess people change,” I said softly.
There it is again.
That same weak defense.
Her smile faded slightly.
And I knew—
She didn’t believe me.
The rest of dinner only got worse.
Every question felt like a trap.
Every response felt like a risk.
And then—
It happened.
A sharp pressure built behind my eyes.
My breath hitched slightly.
No.
Not now.
Please.
I blinked slowly, trying to steady myself.
But it only got worse.
My vision blurred slightly at the edges.
The lights felt too bright.
Too sharp.
My hand moved instinctively to the table, gripping it lightly.
“Are you alright?” someone asked.
Too many voices.
Too loud.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
Lie.
The metallic taste hit my mouth.
My heart dropped.
No.
No no no—
I pressed my lips together tightly.
Don’t let it happen.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of everyone.
I forced a smile.
“I just need some air,” I said, standing up carefully.
The room spun slightly.
But I kept walking.
Don’t run.
Don’t panic.
Just walk.
I barely made it to the hallway before it started.
Blood.
Warm.
Slow.
My hand flew to my nose.
Damn it.
I leaned slightly against the wall, breathing unevenly, trying to stop it.
This is bad.
This is really bad.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
My heart stopped.
Please… not now.
Not anyone.
But of course—
“Mrs. Blackwood.”
I froze.
Slowly, I turned.
Damien stood there.
Watching me.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
To the blood.
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
I tried to straighten, quickly wiping it away.
“It’s nothing,” I said, my voice barely steady.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just… watched.
Like he was putting pieces together.
“You’re bleeding,” he said finally.
“I said it’s nothing.”
Too fast.
Too defensive.
Mistake.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Does this happen often?”
My chest tightened.
Think.
Lie.
“I’ve just been stressed,” I said quietly.
Another lie.
A weak one.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“Look at me.”
I hesitated.
Then slowly… I did.
His gaze locked onto mine.
Sharp.
Piercing.
Unrelenting.
“You’re lying.”
My breath caught.
“I’m not—
“Stop.”
One word.
And I couldn’t continue.
Silence stretched between us.
Thick.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Then—
He straightened slightly.
“Fix yourself,” he said calmly. “We’re not done.”
That was it.
No more questions.
No more pressure.
Just control.
He turned and walked away.
Leaving me there—
Shaken.
Exposed.
And more afraid than before.
When I returned to the table…
Everything continued like nothing happened.
Conversations.
Laughter.
Glasses clinking.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
Because now—
He knew.
Not everything.
But enough.
And the way he looked at me after that?
It wasn’t just suspicion anymore.
It was something else.
Something deeper.
Something dangerous.
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