Chapter 8: A Face I Can’t Forget
396 Words
Dominic couldn’t sleep.
The sheets were smooth, the air perfectly chilled, but his mind thrashed with static—flashes, fragments, a ghost in red silk.
Aria.
Her voice. Her fire. Her fear.
The way she’d squared off with Gemma without flinching.
He’d seen that exact defiance before—five years ago, in a hotel room soaked in shadow and silence. Back then, she had whispered his name like it meant something.
But the memory had always been faceless.
Now it wasn’t.
Now it looked like her.
He found himself in the study at 2 a.m., scrolling through archived security footage from that charity gala five years back—the one in Vegas. The night everything had gone dark. He never found the girl. Only a missing hour… and a hangover that felt like a blackout.
And Gemma had been there too.
He paused on a freeze-frame.
Gemma in red.
Aria—behind her, slightly blurred, younger, hair shorter, eyes wide and uncertain.
His breath caught.
Aria was there. That night.
The timeline unraveled in his mind.
The drink. The haze. The girl.
And now… the woman in his house, with secrets behind her smile.
By morning, he was sharper than usual. And cold.
He watched her pour coffee, her eyes flicking up as she noticed his stare.
“Something on my face?” she asked.
Dominic walked around the island slowly. “Actually, yes.”
She tensed. “What?”
He stopped inches from her. “Your face. I can’t forget it.”
She didn’t breathe. Neither did he.
“I’ve been trying to place it. That night in Vegas…” His voice dropped. “It was you.”
Her knuckles whitened on the mug.
“I—” she started, but the doorbell rang like a gunshot.
They both turned.
Aria opened it, stunned.
Leo stood there, clutching his toy astronaut, grinning. “Surprise!”
Behind him stood a red-faced Lena. “He followed me from school. Said he had to see Mommy.”
Dominic’s eyes locked on the boy.
Time stopped.
Same eyes. Same mouth. Same stubborn stance.
The truth didn’t hit him like a wave.
It detonated.
Dominic took a slow step forward.
“How old is he, Aria?”
Her lips trembled.
“Five.”
He didn’t speak again.
He didn’t need to.
His face said everything.
He knew.
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