Chapter 7: "The Phone Call"
324 Words
Aria was supposed to be asleep.
The fever was gone but her body was still tired.
At 2AM, she heard voices from Damian’s study.
Low. Angry.
She shouldn’t have listened.
Rule #4: Don’t pry.
But her name was said.
“...she can’t find out,” Damian’s voice. Cold. Final.
A pause.
“It’s better this way. One year. Then she goes back to her life.”
Aria’s chest tightened.
Who was "she"?
What couldn’t she find out?
Footsteps.
Aria bolted back to her room. Heart pounding.
Pretended to be asleep when the door opened.
Damian stood in her doorway. Watching her.
For a long time.
Then he left. No sound.
The next morning, nothing was different.
Suit. Coffee. Cold eyes.
“Morning,” Aria said at her desk.
“Morning.” He didn’t look up. “You have a meeting at 10.”
Like last night didn’t happen.
At lunch, she couldn’t eat.
At 3PM, a package arrived at her desk. No sender.
Inside: her mom’s hospital bill.
Stamped: *PAID IN FULL*
And a note in Damian’s handwriting:
_Don’t ask questions. - D_
Aria stared at it.
Was this guilt? Or control?
At 6PM, she waited in the elevator for him.
He got in. Tie loosened. Exhausted.
“Did you pay it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said I would.”
“That’s not—”
The elevator stopped. Floor 70.
Damian stepped out. Then turned back.
“You heard me last night, didn’t you?”
Aria froze.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Forget it.”
He walked away.
But before the doors closed, he added:
“And Aria?
Don’t dig.
Some things are better left buried.”
The doors shut.
Aria was left alone.
With a paid bill.
With soup on the stove.
And with 49 weeks left on a contract that was starting to feel like a cage.
What was he hiding?
---
- Writer
