CHAPTER 6: A NEW NAME
867 Words
The city slipped away behind her slowly, almost lazily. Each building lost. Each memory fading, one after another. Ava didn’t bother to look back. Not when the skyline vanished. Not when the roads went silent. She didn’t even flinch when the last piece of her old life disappeared completely.
She just kept driving, and that was it. Honestly, Ava Collins wasn’t someone who belonged to that world anymore. She knew it. She felt it.
The car rolled onto a private driveway, guarded by iron gates tall, intimidating, cold. Security cameras followed her every move, and the gates swung open with barely a pause. Expected. Prepared. That old anxiety, replaced by something solid: safety.
They pulled up in front of a modern home, tucked deep in the shadows where nobody could find her. For a moment, Ava just sat there. Didn’t move. The driver broke the silence. “This is it.”
She blinked, steady and clear.
“Thank you,” she said, voice as calm as if she were ordering coffee.
She stepped out. Her heels clicked against the pavement, sharp and clean. The air felt different so quiet it was almost eerie. Clean, untouched. Almost peaceful, really… nothing like the mess she left behind.
Before she could even raise her hand to knock, the front door opened. A man stood there. Mid-thirties. His eyes sharp, posture stiff. The sort of guy who notices everything and keeps it to himself.
“You’re right on time,” he said.
Ava gave him a quick once-over. “Daniel.”
He nodded. “Miss Collins.”
She let a faint smile slip through. “Not anymore.”
He paused. Then stepped aside, ushering her in. “Of course. Come in.”
Inside, the place was all angles and edges minimal, efficient, almost sterile. No clutter. No warmth. Just the essentials. Ava liked it. She walked deeper in, letting her gaze sweep the room windows, exits, blind spots. Nothing escaped her attention.
“You came ready,” Daniel said, watching her closely.
“I learned fast,” Ava responded.
He nodded—m like he expected nothing less. “Everything’s set up.” He motioned to a table in the center. “ID, financial access, secure communication, all untraceable.”
Ava moved closer. On the table: a passport, a new phone, a stack of cards, documents a new identity sitting right there.
Her fingers hovered over the passport. She picked it up. Opened it. Her face stared back at her but a different name.
She took a slow breath.
“Say it,” Daniel prompted.
She kept her eyes on the document. “Aria Vale.”
It sounded strange at first a new name, not quite hers. Then she said it again, stronger.
Daniel watched. “Starting now, that’s who you are.”
Ava no, Aria closed the passport. “And Ava Collins?” she asked quietly.
Daniel didn’t even blink. “Gone.”
Something flickered in her eyes not pain, not sadness. Just quiet acceptance.
“Good,” she said.
Minutes later, she was alone in another room. A suitcase waited on the bed clothes chosen for this new identity. Sharp lines. Neutral colors. Nothing left tying her to the past.
She walked to the mirror, slow, deliberate. Studied herself. Same face. Same eyes. But every trace of softness had vanished. Trust, gone. Innocence, gone. Only purpose. Only control.
She reached up, slipped off her engagement ring the last relic. Held it between her fingers. Everything it meant: love, promises, lies. It felt heavier than ever.
She dropped it. The sound was soft. But final.
Aria straightened.
“Ava Collins is gone,” she told her reflection.
No doubt. No hesitation.
“Good.”
In the main room, Daniel was busy with his tablet. He glanced up as she came in.
“It’s already started,” he said.
She tilted her head. “What?”
“The fallout.” He showed her the screen news headlines, social media chaos.
“Bride Disappears at Wedding,” “Business Heiress Gone,” “Speculation Everywhere.”
Aria scanned all of it, cool as ice.
“They’re spinning the story,” she said.
Daniel nodded. “For now.”
She just smiled. “Let them.”
He studied her. “You’re not worried.”
She met his gaze. “I’m not the one losing control.”
Brief silence.
Then he asked, “What’s your next move?”
She turned to the window. Looked at the horizon. Her reflection stared back no longer Ava. Not the erased woman. Something sharper.
“They think I ran,” she said, slow and measured. “They think I’m scared.”
Her lips curled into a cold smile.
“Let them believe whatever they want.”
Daniel stayed steady. “What happens when they learn the truth?”
Aria’s eyes hardened.
“They won’t.”
A beat.
“Not until it’s too late.”
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
“We’re looking for you.”
Aria read it, then fired back a reply quick, precise, impossible to trace.
“You won’t find me.”
Send.
And that was it. The game was officially on.
- Writer
