THE MAN WHO WAS NEVER MEANT TO LOVE ME

Chapter 1 — The Night She Should Have Forgotten The rain began just after midnight. Aria Vale stood beside the living-room window, watching water race down the glass while the city disappeared beneath a curtain of darkness. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional rumble of thunder and the ticking of the old clock on the wall. She should have been asleep. Tomorrow was going to be another ordinary day. Work. Bills. Groceries. Her mother's medication. Then home. Nothing exciting. Nothing dangerous. At least, that was what Aria believed. She pulled the curtain slightly aside. A black car was parked across the street. Her brows knitted. She had never seen it before. The engine was still running. Aria watched for several seconds before a man stepped out. He was tall and dressed in a dark coat. Rain fell heavily around him, but he didn't seem bothered by it. He simply stood beside the car and stared at their apartment building. Then his head lifted. His eyes seemed to settle directly on Aria's window. She quickly released the curtain. Her heart began beating faster. Who is he? She stepped away from the window. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was visiting someone else. Then she heard footsteps in the hallway outside the apartment. Aria froze. Their building had old wooden floors that creaked whenever someone walked across them. One step. Then another. Someone was coming upstairs. Aria glanced toward her mother's bedroom. Her mother was asleep. At least, she had been when Aria checked on her earlier. The footsteps stopped outside their door. Three slow knocks followed. Knock. Knock. Knock. Aria's stomach tightened. She walked toward the bedroom. "Mom?" Her mother stirred. "Aria?" "There is someone at the door." Her mother's eyes opened. The moment she heard the knocking, all the sleep disappeared from her face. She sat up. "Don't open it." Aria stared at her. "Who is it?" "I don't know." Another knock. This time harder. Her mother got out of bed. "Stay in your room." "Mom, you're scaring me." Her mother looked at her for a long moment. Then she whispered, "If anyone asks, you don't know anything." Aria's confusion deepened. "Know what?" Her mother didn't answer. Instead, she walked toward the living room. Aria followed. "Mom—" "Stay there." Her mother reached the door. "Who is it?" A man's voice came from outside. "Clara." Her mother went completely still. Aria noticed. She knew that voice meant something to her mother. "Who is that?" Aria whispered. Her mother raised a finger to her lips. The man outside spoke again. "You've been hiding long enough." Her mother slowly opened the door. The stranger stood in the hallway. He looked to be in his fifties, with a serious expression and rainwater dripping from his coat. His eyes immediately moved toward Aria. He stopped. For several seconds, he simply stared. Then his expression changed. "She survived." Aria frowned. "What?" Her mother stepped in front of her. "Leave." The man looked at Clara. "You told me she was dead." Aria's heart skipped. "Mom?" Clara didn't respond. The stranger reached into his coat and pulled out a small, worn photograph. He held it toward Clara. "You know what this is." Her mother's face lost its color. "Where did you get that?" "You should be asking why I still have it." Aria stepped forward. "What photograph?" Her mother quickly took it from him. But Aria had already seen enough. The photograph showed her mother as a young woman. Standing beside a handsome man she had never seen before. And in front of them was a little girl. Aria. There was no doubt. She recognized the small scar near the girl's eyebrow. She had the same scar. "That's me," Aria whispered. Her mother closed her eyes. The stranger looked at Aria with something close to pity. "Your mother never told you." "Told me what?" "About the night your father disappeared." Aria's breath caught. "My father?" Her mother finally spoke. "Don't listen to him." "Why?" "Because he wants something from us." The stranger gave a humorless smile. "I don't want anything from you, Clara." He looked at Aria. "I came to warn you." "Warn me about what?" "About the Blackwells." Aria had heard the name before. But she couldn't remember where. The stranger stepped backward. "Your mother knows exactly who they are." Her mother tightened her grip on the photograph. "Go." He looked at her for a final moment. "You can't keep her hidden forever." Then he turned and walked away. Aria waited until the footsteps disappeared. Then she turned toward her mother. "What did he mean?" Her mother didn't answer. "Who are the Blackwells?" Silence. "Who was the man in the picture?" Still nothing. "And who was my father?" Her mother's eyes filled with tears. "Aria, there are things about your life that I wanted to protect you from." "By lying to me?" "I was trying to keep you alive." The words made Aria go still. "Alive?" Her mother looked toward the locked door. "They found us." "Who?" Before her mother could answer, the lights went out. The apartment became completely dark. Aria grabbed her mother's hand. "Mom?" "Don't move." Something scraped against the front door. Her mother whispered, "They're here." Aria's heart pounded. "Who?" No answer. A shadow passed beneath the gap at the bottom of the door. Then came a soft voice from the other side. "Clara." Her mother covered Aria's mouth before she could speak. The voice continued. "We know the girl is alive." Aria's eyes widened. Her mother pulled her toward the kitchen. "Come with me." They moved silently through the darkness. Aria could barely breathe. "Where are we going?" "The back door." They reached the kitchen. Her mother opened the small door leading into the narrow alley behind the building. Cold rain rushed inside. "Run." They stepped outside. Aria followed her mother through the alley, confused and frightened. "Mom, tell me what's happening!" "Keep moving." "You said you were trying to protect me!" "I am." "From who?" Her mother stopped. For the first time, Aria saw genuine fear in her eyes. "From the family your father belonged to." A car suddenly turned into the street ahead. Its headlights illuminated them. Aria raised an arm to shield her eyes. The car stopped. The driver's door opened. A man stepped out. He was young. Tall. Impossibly calm. His dark hair was damp from the rain, and his expression was unreadable as he looked at Clara. Then his eyes moved to Aria. He stared at her for several seconds. Aria felt an unfamiliar chill. Her mother stepped in front of her. "Julian." The man's jaw tightened. "So you really did hide her." Aria looked at her mother. "You know him?" Julian's gaze never left Aria. "I've been looking for you for years." Aria's confusion turned into anger. "You don't even know me." Julian took a step closer. "I know more about you than you think." Her mother grabbed Aria's wrist. "Get back." But Julian's next words stopped them both. "Your father wasn't the man you've been told he was." Aria stared at him. "What are you talking about?" Julian reached into his coat. He pulled out another photograph. This one was newer. And when he turned it toward Aria, her entire world seemed to stop. It showed her mother standing beside Julian's father. But written across the bottom were words that made Aria's blood run cold: ARIA VALE — THE HEIR THEY THOUGHT WAS DEAD. Aria looked at Julian. "Why does your family have my name?" Julian's expression hardened. "Because, Aria..." He paused. "You're the reason my family has been lying for twenty years." And before Aria could ask what he meant, a loud sound came from the apartment behind them. Julian looked toward the building. His expression changed. "They found us." Then he grabbed Aria's hand and whispered, "If you want to know who your father really was, you have to trust the one man you were never supposed to love."