Chapter 11 – The Cost of a Lie
1051 Words
Ariana’s POV
Sleep didn’t come.
Not even for a second.
I lay still on the bed, eyes open in the darkness, listening to the silence that filled the room. Every small sound—the ticking clock, the faint rustle of fabric—felt louder than it should.
Because my mind wouldn’t rest.
It kept replaying everything.
The restaurant.
The blood.
The garden.
The way he said my name—
Ariana.
My chest tightened.
He knew.
Or at least… he knew enough.
And Damien wasn’t the type to ignore something like that.
No.
He would dig.
And when he did—
Everything would fall apart.
Morning came like a punishment.
I forced myself out of bed, my body heavy, my head throbbing faintly. My reflection in the mirror looked worse than I felt—pale, tired, barely holding together.
Perfect.
Exactly what I couldn’t afford to be.
I splashed cold water on my face, straightened my posture, fixed my expression.
Alina.
Not Ariana.
Never Ariana.
By the time I stepped downstairs, the house was already awake.
Staff moved around quietly, efficiently.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
But I could feel it.
Something was off.
Then I saw him.
Damien stood near the dining table, already dressed, his phone in hand.
Speaking.
“…I want everything,” he was saying, his voice low but firm. “Medical records, history, anything unusual.”
My steps slowed.
My heart dropped.
No…
He turned slightly—
And his eyes met mine.
The call didn’t stop.
“…Yes. Discreetly,” he added, before ending it.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
I forced myself to keep walking.
Calm.
Controlled.
Like I hadn’t just heard that.
“Good morning,” I said softly.
His gaze stayed on me.
Too long.
Too sharp.
“Sit.”
I obeyed immediately.
Of course I did.
A maid stepped forward, placing breakfast in front of me.
I stared at it.
Food.
The last thing I wanted.
“Eat,” Damien said.
My fingers tightened slightly. “I’m not really—”
“I wasn’t asking.”
I froze.
Then slowly… I picked up the fork.
Forced myself.
One bite.
Then another.
Even though my stomach protested.
Even though I felt like I might throw up.
Across the table, he watched.
Not openly.
But enough.
Always enough.
“You have an event this afternoon,” he said after a moment.
I nodded slightly. “Alright.”
“A charity foundation.”
My chest tightened.
Charity.
Again.
“You’ll speak.”
My hand paused mid-air.
Speak?
In front of people?
People who knew Alina?
“I…” I hesitated. “What exactly do I need to say?”
His eyes lifted to mine.
Cold.
Assessing.
“You’ll be briefed.”
That wasn’t comforting.
At all.
The rest of breakfast passed in silence.
But it wasn’t peaceful.
It was… loaded.
Like every second carried something unspoken.
Something waiting.
Later that afternoon—
Everything felt too fast.
Too loud.
Too real.
The event hall was filled with people—well-dressed, polished, important.
Cameras flashed.
Voices overlapped.
And right in the middle of it all—
Me.
Standing beside Damien.
Smiling.
Pretending.
Dying inside.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured beside me.
“I’m focusing,” I replied softly.
His gaze flicked to me.
“You should.”
That didn’t feel like encouragement.
That felt like a warning.
Minutes later—
I was on stage.
Alone.
My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.
The microphone felt heavy in my hand.
The lights were too bright.
The faces in the crowd blurred slightly.
Not now…
Please not now…
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus.
Speak.
Just speak.
“Good afternoon,” I started, my voice steady—somehow.
“I’m honored to be here today…”
The words came.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Every sentence calculated.
Every pause controlled.
And for a moment—
It worked.
I was doing it.
I was actually doing it.
Until—
A voice from the crowd cut in.
“Alina.”
My heart skipped.
I looked up.
A woman stood.
Elegant.
Confident.
Smiling.
But her eyes?
Sharp.
Too sharp.
“I have a question,” she said.
Of course she does.
My fingers tightened around the mic.
“Go ahead,” I said.
She tilted her head slightly.
“You’ve supported this foundation for years,” she began. “So I’m curious…”
A pause.
Too long.
Too intentional.
“What inspired you to start working with them in the first place?”
My mind went blank.
Completely.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t know anything about this.
My heartbeat spiked.
Think.
Say something.
Anything.
“I—”
Nothing came.
Not a single word.
The silence stretched.
Too long.
Too dangerous.
I could feel it—
The shift in the room.
The confusion.
The suspicion.
My grip tightened.
“I… believe in helping people,” I said finally.
Weak.
Too general.
Not enough.
The woman’s smile didn’t fade.
If anything—
It grew.
“I’m sure you do,” she said smoothly. “But that’s not what you told us last year.”
My stomach dropped.
Last year?
My vision blurred slightly.
No…
Not here.
Not now.
The room started spinning.
My breathing became uneven.
This is bad.
This is really bad—
“Ariana.”
My name.
Again.
My head snapped slightly—
And there he was.
Damien.
Standing just off the stage.
Watching me.
His expression unreadable.
But his eyes?
Sharp.
Focused.
Commanding.
“Wrap it up.”
Not loud.
But enough.
Enough to ground me.
Enough to pull me back.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe.
Focus.
Finish it.
“I… appreciate your question,” I said quickly. “And I’ll be happy to discuss it further after the event.”
Deflect.
Escape.
End it.
“For now… thank you.”
Applause followed.
But it didn’t feel real.
Nothing did.
The moment I stepped off the stage—
My legs gave out.
Everything went black for a second—
And I fell.
Gasps filled the room.
Voices.
Movement.
Chaos.
But the only thing I felt—
Was a pair of arms catching me before I hit the ground.
Strong.
Firm.
Unfamiliar.
Yet—
Safe.
“Damn it.”
His voice.
Low.
Sharp.
Close.
And then—
Nothing.
- Writer
