CHAPTER 10: THE MESSAGE SHE DIDN’T EXPECT
801 Words
The room just felt cold. Not from the air it was that message, still shining on Aria’s screen.
“We need to talk.”
No name. No warning. Just those words.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t panic.
Whoever sent it? They moved like they knew the map already.
Daniel stepped in, not even trying to hide the tension. “Trace it.”
She shook her head. “Tried.”
“And?”
“Blocked. Disguised. Clean. No footprints.”
Daniel’s jaw clenched. “That’s not normal.”
“It’s not,” Aria said, quiet.
This wasn’t just random spam. Not some mistake. Someone out there wanted her attention and they knew what they were doing.
She drifted her fingers over the phone, thinking. Then messaged: “Say what you need to say.”
Three dots appeared right away. Paused. Vanished. Popped up again.
Aria narrowed her eyes. Careful. Calculating.
Finally: “You disappeared too clean.”
Her heart didn’t race. It slowed. Deliberate. Cold.
Daniel watched her. “What does that mean?”
Aria typed, crisp and simple: “Wrong person.”
The answer came back so fast it had to be waiting: “No. Right person.”
A beat.
“Ava.”
That name hit like a punch. The silence between them got real dense. Like the air couldn’t move.
Daniel dropped his voice. “They used your name.”
She gripped the phone tighter. Not many people even knew she was alive almost nobody would link Ava Collins to Aria Vale this fast.
“Who is it?” Daniel pressed.
“I don’t know.” Her tone had steel in it.
But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was they knew enough.
Somewhere across the city, in an office nobody would think to check, a man leaned back, eyes locked on his phone.
Calm. Watching. Waited.
“She took the bait,” he murmured.
Someone at the window didn’t even bother to turn around. “You’re sure it’s her?”
A little smile. “Only one ghost vanishes that clean. Only one leaves a shadow if you know how to look.”
He tapped the screen. Sat back. Let her simmer.
Back in the safe house, Aria let out a careful breath.
Daniel cut in before she could type. “Don’t reply yet. We don’t know what they want.”
But she was already moving past that dread. “We’re about to.”
She started typing: “If you know who I am…” Her thumb hovered.
She finished it: “Say it clearly.”
This time, nothing came back right away. Seconds. A full minute.
The phone buzzed.
She read the new message. Once. Then again.
Her face didn’t betray a thing, but her eyes hardened.
Daniel leaned in. “What did they say?”
Aria lowered the phone, slow.
“She didn’t just disappear from Ethan,” she said softly. “She disappeared from everyone.”
Daniel was lost. “What?”
She met his stare. And something new flickered in her voice something alert, awake.
“They said… You’re not the only one who was watching.”
Daniel straightened, all nerves. “That’s not good.”
“No,” she agreed.
It changed the whole picture. This wasn’t just about Ethan. Wasn’t just about Lila.
Someone else had always been out there. Waiting. Watching, same as her.
Her phone buzzed again.
New message. Two words. No warmth.
“Meet me.”
Daniel shot it down immediately. “No way.”
She didn’t answer. Wheels turned in her head, taking in every twist and risk.
Could be a trap. Could be a lead. Maybe both. Opportunity tastes same as poison, sometimes.
“Too risky,” Daniel pressed. “We know nothing about them.”
She eyed the message, then let a faint smile slip through.
“They already know me.”
She looked right at him. “Staying away doesn’t change that.”
Daniel ground his teeth. “Jumping in blind is worse.”
But Aria had already made her move. Calm. Steady.
“I’m not jumping in blind.” She slipped on her coat, all business.
This wasn’t a simple revenge story anymore. Not just some mess with Ethan. Something wider. Deeper. Beyond what she’d been ready for.
“Set up surveillance,” she ordered. “Eyes everywhere.”
Daniel just shook his head, seeing she was set.
He let out a sharp breath. “You’ve decided.”
She paused at the doorway, looked back, unreadable.
“I need to know who else is in this.”
Her eyes were dark now. Ready.
“And what they want from me.”
Miles off, another phone lit up.
He read her answer. The smile widened, slow and sure.
Right on cue.
She was in.
- Writer
