Mask of Desires

Chapter 3

"Chapter 2: The Honeymoon in Paris (Expanded)

The private jet hummed quietly, cutting through the early morning sky as it soared toward Paris. The city of lights and romance felt worlds away from the darkness Ariella carried within her. In the sterile silence of the cabin, she tried to focus on the scenery unfolding beneath them — the vast stretch of clouds, the gentle arc of the plane's wings. Yet her mind was firmly anchored in the mission at hand, and every passing minute only deepened her internal conflict.

Victor sat beside her, his broad frame occupying most of the seat, his eyes lost in the ever-changing view outside the window. He absentmindedly twirled a gold ring on his finger — the very same ring that symbolized their union. His fingers were casual, relaxed in a way that Ariella could never afford to be. She watched him from the corner of her eye, her heart a battlefield, a delicate balancing act between duty and temptation.

The mask had served its purpose well. To Victor, she was Elena Cruz, his beloved fiancée — the woman he had waited for. The perfect match. He hadn’t questioned her, not once. Yet every moment spent in his company felt like a countdown. She had only a limited amount of time to gain his trust, uncover his secrets, and strike. She had to break the armor around his world, piece by piece. But there was something about the way he looked at her that made the mission feel less like duty and more like a betrayal.

The jet was luxuriously appointed, with plush seats and deep red velvet curtains. The soft hum of the engines was accompanied only by the gentle clink of champagne glasses. Victor poured them both a drink, his movements unhurried, and for a moment, he seemed like the man he wanted to be — a man enjoying a quiet moment of celebration. He handed her the glass, his gaze lingering on her, his smile soft and genuine, a rare thing that Ariella was beginning to understand.

“To new beginnings,” he toasted, his voice rich with a warmth she hadn’t expected.

Ariella forced a smile, her fingers curling tightly around the glass. She could feel her pulse quicken, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the champagne or the proximity to him. She met his gaze, holding it steady, but the words felt like shards of glass on her tongue.

“To new beginnings,” she echoed, a soft tremor in her voice she couldn’t quite control.

The quiet tension in the air thickened. Ariella’s thoughts raced faster than the jet could carry them. Paris. The most romantic city in the world. It felt almost poetic — cruelly so. It was the perfect setting for a honeymoon, yet for Ariella, it was nothing more than a carefully constructed trap. Every building, every stone, every breath in this city would be a stepping stone toward uncovering Victor’s dark secrets. She would gather everything she needed to destroy him. Then she would strike.

But as she glanced at him again, feeling the weight of his eyes on her, something inside her shifted. The way his hand brushed hers as he passed the glass. The way his smile reached his eyes, full of genuine affection. There was tenderness in his touch — a stark contrast to the monster she had expected. His gentleness, the softness in his eyes when he looked at her, made the line between duty and desire blur in a way she couldn’t ignore.

Ariella blinked, trying to push the warmth aside. She had a job to do. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in the man who had unknowingly become her target.

“Do you like Paris?” Victor’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She startled slightly, surprised by the sudden question, but she masked it quickly. ""I’ve never been,"" she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. ""But I hear it’s beautiful.""

Victor smiled, leaning in slightly, his presence commanding but gentle. “Then you’ll see it all,” he said. “I want to show you every corner. The best that Paris has to offer. We’re starting our life together, Elena. I want you to have everything.”

The words hit her harder than she expected. Starting our life together. A heavy lump formed in her throat as guilt twisted inside her. She was living a lie. The man sitting beside her had no idea that she was here to end his life, that every gesture he made, every soft word he spoke, was only drawing her deeper into the web of deception. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved someone who truly loved him, not a woman bound by duty, pretending to be the woman he thought she was.

Ariella fought to keep her expression neutral. She nodded slowly, her throat tight with emotion. ""I’m looking forward to it.""

The jet continued its descent as the Paris skyline came into view, the city sprawling beneath the fading light of dusk. Golden hues bathed the buildings as they drifted closer to the city, and Ariella felt a strange pull — not toward the city, but toward the life she could have had. But it wasn’t hers. Not now.

As the plane touched down, Victor’s hand found hers, his fingers warm and reassuring. He pulled her close, and the softness of his touch lingered longer than necessary.

“We’re here,” he said, his voice rich with excitement. “I want us to have the perfect honeymoon. No distractions. Just you and me.”

Ariella nodded, but her mind was far from the romantic moment Victor seemed so eager to embrace. I can’t afford to let him get too close. Not now. Not when I’m supposed to kill him.

But as they disembarked the jet, stepping into the sleek black limo waiting for them on the tarmac, the weight of the mission hit her once again. The tension between them was thick, palpable. For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to be someone else. To be Elena. Someone not bound by a hidden agenda, someone who didn’t have to betray the man standing so close behind her.

But the truth was, she couldn’t. She wasn’t Elena. She was Ariella, and the mission still loomed large, overshadowing every moment of peace she tried to steal. The road ahead was uncertain, and Ariella couldn’t afford to let the closeness, the warmth of his touch, cloud her focus.

They drove through the heart of Paris, the city’s lights twinkling in the distance as they entered the opulent hotel awaiting them. The tension in Ariella’s chest deepened. What was she becoming? And would she still be able to pull the trigger when the time came?

As Victor smiled at her from across the limo, his hand resting on her knee in an affectionate gesture, Ariella turned her gaze to the city outside the window. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Yet, despite herself, a small part of her wished that it could be."