Chapter 2 – The First Trap
1226 Words
Morning light slipped into Aria’s room, but it felt heavy instead of warm. She sat at her vanity, staring at her own reflection. The same pale face, the same tired eyes. The same silk dress her father’s staff had laid out for her, because he decided what she wore, what she ate, and even what she said.
The gala from last night replayed in her head. Alejandro’s calm voice. His eyes that seemed to cut straight through her without judgment. For a moment, she had felt safe. That safety scared her more than anything, because it wasn’t supposed to exist in her world.
She touched her lips unconsciously. They hadn’t kissed, but something about the way he’d spoken to her like she wasn’t invisible felt more intimate than any kiss she had ever known.
The knock on her door snapped her back.
“Aria.” Her father’s sharp voice came through the door. “Breakfast. Downstairs. Now.”
She smoothed her dress quickly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Coming, Father.”
When she walked into the dining hall, Ethan was already there, lounging in his chair with his usual smug grin. He didn’t even stand when she entered.
“You took your time,” Ethan mocked, lifting his glass of juice. “Still recovering from last night? Or maybe from that little dance with the help?”
Her stomach twisted. He meant Alejandro.
Aria sat quietly, hoping to avoid a scene. But Ethan thrived on pushing her.
“Really, Aria. Dancing with a… what did your father say he was? Some consultant? Pathetic. If you want a real man, you only need to look across this table.” He flashed his teeth.
Her father didn’t correct him. He just kept eating, as if Ethan’s arrogance was natural.
Aria’s hands curled in her lap, hidden under the table.
Before she could answer, the butler stepped into the room. “Mr. Vega is here.”
Her heart skipped. She looked up sharply, trying not to show her surprise. Alejandro entered the dining hall, dressed simply, but his presence filled the room anyway. He nodded to her father with respect, then glanced at her briefly. Just enough to let her know he saw her.
Ethan groaned loudly. “Him again? What is this, Father, bring-your-pet-to-breakfast day?”
Her father shot Ethan a warning look. “He’s here to discuss business. Sit quietly, Ethan.”
Ethan smirked, but his jaw tightened. He hated being told off, especially in front of Alejandro.
Aria stayed silent. She could feel Alejandro’s presence without even looking at him. And here’s the strange thing Ethan’s insults didn’t sting as much with Alejandro sitting across the table. She wasn’t alone.
After breakfast, her father pulled Alejandro aside into the study, leaving Aria and Ethan behind.
Ethan leaned close, his breath hot against her ear. “Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on. You like him. Don’t you?”
Aria pulled back, shaking her head quickly. “No. I don’t.”
He smirked. “You’re a terrible liar. But it won’t matter. You’re mine. Your father promised me years ago. Don’t embarrass yourself by clinging to scraps.”
He stood, brushing her shoulder with his hand before walking away.
Her chest tightened. She wanted to scream at him, tell him she wasn’t his, that she would never belong to him. But her father’s shadow was always there. And so, she stayed quiet.
That afternoon, Aria tried to escape the mansion. Just a short walk in the gardens, away from the constant control. But when she reached the fountain, Elena appeared, her cousin dressed in a striking red dress, lips painted like blood.
“Aria,” Elena said sweetly, though her eyes held knives. “Everyone is talking about you. Dancing with that… man last night. You embarrassed the family.”
Aria stiffened. “I didn’t ”
“Oh, but you did.” Elena stepped closer, her voice low. “Don’t think you’re special. Men like him don’t want quiet little dolls. If he looks my way, I won’t hesitate.”
Aria’s throat burned. She hated how Elena could make her feel so small with just a few words.
Then, footsteps. Alejandro appeared from behind the hedge, his calm gaze sweeping over them. Elena instantly straightened, pushing her chest forward, smiling too brightly.
“Alejandro,” she purred. “We were just talking about you.”
He looked at her for only a second, then his eyes went to Aria. Not Elena. Not the red dress or the fake smile. Just Aria.
“Miss De Luca,” he said softly, as though Elena wasn’t even there. “Are you alright?”
Her chest loosened. No one ever asked her that.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Elena’s smile cracked. She turned sharply, muttering something about being late, before storming off.
Alejandro didn’t move closer, but his presence wrapped around her. “You shouldn’t let people like that decide how you feel.”
Aria lowered her eyes. “It’s not that easy.”
“Maybe not,” he said, voice steady. “But it’s worth trying.”
For the first time, she let out a shaky laugh. She didn’t even know why. He made things sound so simple.
Later that night, Alejandro stepped into his own world again. A dimly lit room. A long table. Men in dark suits sat quietly, waiting for him to speak. Miguel, his right-hand man, stood closest.
“You shouldn’t have approached her again so soon,” Miguel warned in Spanish. “The girl is already looking at you differently. You know what happens if she falls for you.”
Alejandro’s expression stayed cold. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, swirling it slowly. “That’s the point.”
Miguel frowned. “You’ll ruin her. Maybe that was the plan, but the longer this goes on, the harder it will be for her, for you.”
Alejandro’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer right away. Then finally: “She’ll trust me more before I destroy her. That’s how it has to be.”
That same night, Aria couldn’t sleep. She left her room and walked down the hall, her bare feet silent against the marble floor. Something had been eating at her all evening, something she couldn’t name.
She passed her father’s study. The door was half-open. She heard his voice inside, harsh and sharp.
“I told you already I’ll never bow to Alejandro Vega. No matter the cost.”
The name froze her in place. Vega.
She pressed a hand to her chest. Vega. That wasn’t the name she knew. To her, he was just Alejandro, the quiet man, the consultant.
Her father slammed something on the desk inside. “If he thinks he can use my daughter as part of his revenge, he’s mistaken.”
Aria’s breath hitched. Revenge. Daughter. Alejandro.
She stumbled back, her heart racing, hands trembling. Alejandro Vega.
The world tilted. And suddenly, the man who made her feel safe felt terrifyingly close to dangerous.
Aria covers her mouth, holding back a gasp, as her father’s words echo in her head. Alejandro Vega. Revenge. The kind, quiet man she thought she could trust wasn’t who he claimed to be. And for the first time, she realized she might already be standing in the middle of his trap.
- Writer
