CHAPTER 2 — Don't Trust the Darkness
2495 Words
Chapter Three — Don't Trust the Darkness
Aria didn't sleep.
Not that night.
She sat on the floor beside her bed, her knees pulled against her chest, staring at the photograph that had reopened a wound she had spent eight years trying to bury.
Her mother's face smiled from the picture.
A smile Aria barely remembered.
A smile that hurt more than the nightmare.
She turned the photograph over again.
YOU WERE NEVER FORGOTTEN.
Her fingers trembled.
Who had sent it?
Why now?
And who was Damian Cross?
The name felt like a splinter buried beneath her skin.
She didn't know him.
At least, she thought she didn't.
But that voice on the phone...
It had sounded like something from a dream.
Something from the night she had forgotten.
Aria stood and walked toward the mirror.
She stared at herself.
“You don't remember him,” she whispered.
The reflection stared back.
“You don't remember anything.”
But deep inside her mind, a little girl's voice answered.
Run, Aria.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
A sharp pain suddenly shot through her head.
A flash.
A staircase.
Blood.
A black coat.
Then darkness.
Aria gasped and stumbled backward.
The photograph slipped from her hand.
She didn't notice the black car parked outside her house.
She didn't see Damian sitting inside it.
But he saw her.
And he saw the curtains move.
He knew she was awake.
He also knew someone else had been inside her house.
His jaw tightened.
“Whoever entered that house,” he said quietly, “find them.”
The man beside him nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“And Damian?”
He looked toward the window.
“Don't let anyone get close to her.”
---
The next morning, Aria woke with a terrible headache.
She almost didn't go to university.
Almost.
But staying home alone with her thoughts seemed worse.
She dressed quickly and left.
Halfway down the street, she noticed footsteps behind her.
She stopped.
The footsteps stopped too.
Aria turned.
Nobody.
Her heart began beating faster.
She continued walking.
The footsteps followed.
Faster.
Aria glanced over her shoulder again.
A man stood at the end of the street.
Black hoodie.
Hands in his pockets.
Watching her.
Fear crawled up her spine.
She turned around and walked faster.
The man followed.
Aria started running.
She didn't know where she was going.
She only knew she needed to get away.
She turned into a narrow street.
Wrong choice.
There was no one there.
No shops.
No pedestrians.
Just silence.
Her phone slipped from her hand.
She bent to pick it up.
A hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Aria screamed.
“Let me go!”
The man pulled her toward him.
“Stop fighting.”
“Help!”
She struggled.
Then another voice cut through the darkness.
“Take your hands off her.”
The man's grip loosened.
Aria looked up.
Damian.
He stood several feet away.
Black suit.
Cold expression.
Eyes that looked darker than the night around him.
The stranger immediately released her.
But before he could run, Damian's men appeared behind him.
Two seconds later, the man was on the ground.
Aria stared in shock.
Damian walked toward her.
She stepped backward.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
His eyes moved over her face.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Aria looked down.
Her hands were trembling.
She quickly hid them behind her back.
“I said I'm fine.”
Damian studied her.
“You always say that.”
Aria frowned.
“What does that mean?”
He said nothing.
She stepped closer.
“Who are you?”
His eyes met hers.
“Someone who knows more about you than you think.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“It isn't.”
Aria's anger replaced her fear.
“You've been following me.”
“Yes.”
The honesty stunned her.
“Why?”
Damian moved closer.
“Because you're in danger.”
“From who?”
“You don't want to know.”
“I deserve to know!”
His expression softened for the briefest moment.
“You deserve to live.”
Aria stared at him.
There was something strange about the way he said it.
Not like a threat.
Like a promise.
She shook her head.
“You're frightening.”
Damian's eyes darkened.
“I know.”
“Then stay away from me.”
For the first time, something almost like pain crossed his face.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“Because eight years ago, I promised your mother I would find you.”
Aria stopped breathing.
“My mother?”
Damian nodded.
“She asked me to protect you.”
Aria's eyes filled with tears.
“Did you know her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
He looked away.
“I wasn't there when she died.”
Aria's heart broke at the word.
Died.
Even though she already knew.
Even though no one had ever explained it properly.
She whispered,
“Who killed her?”
Damian looked back at her.
His expression had become unreadable.
“That's what I'm trying to find out.”
A cold wind passed between them.
Then Damian reached into his coat and pulled out something small.
A silver ring.
Aria stared at it.
Her face went pale.
She knew that ring.
She had seen it before.
Eight years ago.
At the bottom of the staircase.
The ring belonging to the man who had stood over her mother.
Aria's voice barely came out.
“Where did you get that?”
Damian looked at the ring.
Then at her.
“I took it from the man who killed your mother.”
Aria's eyes widened.
“You know who he is?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Damian's expression hardened.
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“What?”
A voice spoke on the other end.
Damian's eyes moved toward Aria.
“Are you certain?”
A pause.
Then:
“She's been found.”
Aria frowned.
“Who?”
Damian ended the call.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at her.
“They know where you are.”
“Who?”
“The people who have been searching for you.”
Aria's blood ran cold.
Damian stepped toward her.
“This time, Aria…”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“…I won't be able to keep you safe from them unless you trust me.”
She stared at him.
She wanted to hate him.
She wanted to run.
But somewhere deep inside her, beneath all the fear and confusion, a tiny voice whispered:
Trust him.
And Aria hated that
“Trust you?”
Aria stared at him as though he had just asked her to trust the devil.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
“You've been following me.”
Damian said nothing.
“You knew where I lived. You knew where I studied. You knew someone was following me before I even realized it.”
She took a step backward.
“And now you're telling me that the people who killed my mother are looking for me?”
“Yes.”
His answer was too calm.
Too certain.
Aria's eyes burned with tears.
“Then tell me who they are.”
“I can't.”
“Can't?”
Her voice cracked.
“Or won't?”
Damian's jaw tightened.
“Both.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“You expect me to trust you while you keep hiding things from me?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“I expect you to stay alive long enough to learn the truth.”
Something about his words silenced her.
Before she could respond, a black SUV stopped beside them.
One of Damian's men stepped out.
“Sir, we need to leave.”
Damian nodded.
Then he looked at Aria.
“Get in.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Aria.”
“I don't know you.”
“You know enough.”
“I know nothing about you!”
Her voice echoed through the empty street.
For the first time, Damian's expression softened.
“You're right.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“You don't know me.”
Then he opened the car door.
“But I know you.”
Aria's heart skipped.
He continued quietly.
“I know you hate thunderstorms.”
She froze.
“I know you don't sleep with the lights completely off.”
Her lips parted.
“I know you pretend you're fine whenever you're scared.”
He took another step toward her.
“And I know you still keep your mother's necklace beneath your pillow because wearing it makes you feel like she's still close.”
Aria's face went pale.
“How…”
Damian looked into her eyes.
“Get in the car.”
This time, she did.
---
The mansion was enormous.
Dark.
Beautiful.
And strangely cold.
Aria stood in the entrance hall, staring at the grand staircase and crystal chandelier hanging above her.
She felt like an intruder.
Damian walked ahead of her.
“You'll stay here tonight.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“I wasn't asking.”
She glared at him.
“You really enjoy giving orders.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I enjoy knowing you're alive.”
Her heart betrayed her with one painful beat.
She looked away.
“I don't need you.”
Damian's eyes remained on her.
“That's what worries me.”
Before she could answer, he walked away.
Aria watched him disappear down the hallway.
Something about him unsettled her.
He frightened her.
Yet somehow...
she felt safer when he was near.
And she hated herself for it.
---
Later that night, Aria couldn't sleep.
The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
She stepped into the hallway.
Moonlight spilled across the floor through the tall windows.
As she walked past Damian's study, she noticed the door was slightly open.
She hesitated.
Then curiosity won.
She pushed it open.
The room smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne.
Books covered the walls.
Documents were scattered across the desk.
And photographs.
So many photographs.
Aria walked closer.
Her heart stopped.
The first photograph was of her at eight.
The second was of her at twelve.
Then fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
Photographs of her leaving school.
Walking home.
Sitting in cafés.
Laughing with friends.
Living her life.
A life she had believed was hers alone.
Her fingers trembled.
“How long?”
The voice behind her made her jump.
She turned.
Damian stood in the doorway.
“How long have you been watching me?”
He didn't lie.
“Eight years.”
Aria's chest tightened.
“Why?”
“I told you.”
“You promised my mother.”
“Yes.”
“That isn't enough!”
Her voice broke.
“You've been watching me for eight years, Damian. You knew where I was. You knew what I was doing. You knew things about me that even my friends don't know.”
A tear escaped.
“You watched me grow up.”
Damian's expression changed.
Something painful crossed his eyes.
“I had to.”
“Why?”
He walked toward her.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“Why would she ask a stranger?”
“I wasn't a stranger.”
Aria froze.
“What?”
Damian reached into a drawer and pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to her.
Aria looked down.
Her mother's face stared back at her.
Young.
Happy.
Alive.
Standing beside her was Damian.
But he was younger too.
And between them stood a little girl.
Aria.
She was smiling.
Damian's hand rested protectively on her shoulder.
Aria's breathing stopped.
“I don't remember this.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
She looked up.
“What happened to my memory?”
Damian's silence was answer enough.
“Tell me.”
“Your mother wanted you to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“The truth.”
Aria shook her head.
“What truth?”
Damian looked at the photograph.
“Your family wasn't what you thought it was.”
A cold feeling settled in her stomach.
“What about my father?”
Damian's eyes darkened.
“Your father is the reason your mother died.”
Aria stepped backward.
“No.”
“He wasn't supposed to find you.”
“My father died.”
“No.”
Damian's voice was quiet.
“He disappeared.”
Aria stared at him.
For years, she had believed her father was dead.
For years, she had mourned someone she barely remembered.
And now Damian was telling her that he had been alive all along.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I'm not.”
“Then why are people looking for me?”
Damian's expression hardened.
“Because they think you have something your father left behind.”
“I don't have anything.”
“You do.”
“What?”
He looked at her necklace.
Aria instinctively touched it.
Damian's eyes followed the movement.
“That necklace.”
She pulled it from beneath her shirt.
“My mother gave me this.”
“She didn't give it to you.”
Aria frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Your father did.”
The room went completely silent.
Aria stared at the necklace.
“No.”
Damian stepped closer.
“Look inside it.”
Her fingers trembled as she examined the small pendant.
There was a tiny seam she had never noticed.
Damian took it from her carefully and pressed the side.
The pendant opened.
Inside was a tiny piece of paper.
Aria unfolded it.
There were only three words.
HE KNOWS EVERYTHING.
Her blood ran cold.
“Who?”
Damian's eyes lifted to hers.
“Your father.”
Before Aria could speak—
BANG!
The window shattered.
Damian moved instantly.
He grabbed Aria and pulled her to the floor.
Another gunshot tore through the room.
Aria screamed.
Damian covered her body with his.
“Stay down.”
His voice was cold now.
Deadly.
He reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a gun.
Aria stared at him.
Then she heard something outside.
A voice.
Low.
Familiar.
Her entire body froze.
She knew that voice.
She had heard it in her nightmares.
The voice from the night her mother died.
The voice that had haunted her for eight years.
“Aria…”
Her eyes widened.
Damian looked at her.
“You know that voice?”
Aria couldn't breathe.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Yes.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“That's my father.”
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