Mask of Desires

Chapter 5

"ariella remove her clothes and remove his and slept beside him as if they have done it although they did not, for him not to suspect it, Chapter 4: A Tender Farewell

Ariella stirred from her sleep, the soft rustle of the sheets pulling her slowly back to consciousness. The room was quiet, but the silence felt heavier than it had the night before. Her body was still warm from the dreamlike haze of Victor’s touch, the memory of their closeness lingering like a shadow. But as her eyes fluttered open, she was greeted by the empty side of the bed.

She blinked, her breath catching in her chest as she realized the space beside her was cold. She sat up, confusion swirling in her mind. Where is he?

A sense of unease settled over her as she scanned the room. Victor was nowhere to be found. The soft light streaming through the curtains seemed almost mocking in its serenity. Everything looked the same — but the absence of his presence was deafening.

A small note, placed delicately on the pillow next to her, caught her attention. Ariella’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up and unfolded it, reading Victor’s handwriting in soft, flowing strokes.

My dear Elena,

I’m sorry for leaving on our honeymoon. I really just have another errand that requires my attention, something urgent that needs to be handled. It hurts not to see you wake up on our first day together, but I promise I’ll be back immediately. I hate that I have to leave you, but I will make it up to you, I promise.

In the meantime, please enjoy Paris. You deserve it. You can order anything you want, buy anything you desire. I’ve left you my black card — it’s yours for as long as you need it. Don’t worry about anything.

I love you, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please take care, Elena. I’ll be thinking of you.

Victor

Ariella read the letter again, her heart tightening. He left. He just left. The tenderness in his words struck her deeply, despite the mission she had been carrying out so ruthlessly. His affection — his genuine concern for her — made her feel something she hadn’t anticipated. A part of me wanted this to be real. Wanted him to be real.

She let out a slow breath and clutched the letter to her chest. The tenderness in his words contrasted sharply with the betrayal she had committed. He had no idea what she had done, no idea that the woman he was so tenderly speaking to wasn’t truly Elena. She wasn’t his love. She was the enemy.

But for the briefest of moments, she allowed herself to feel the weight of his affection. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she hadn’t been sent here to kill him. If they hadn’t been trapped in this cruel game of deception.

Sighing, she stood up from the bed, the softness of the sheets still lingering on her skin. The room was luxurious, the whole suite a testament to Victor’s wealth and power. Paris was at her feet — a city of endless possibilities, of beauty and indulgence. Yet, all she could think about was Victor’s absence. And how, for the first time, she truly felt the sting of it.

She walked over to the window, looking out at the city as the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon. The Eiffel Tower stood proudly in the distance, its silhouette bathed in the early morning glow. For a moment, Ariella just stood there, taking it all in, the city below her like a dream — a dream she could never fully embrace.

Her fingers grazed the black card Victor had left on the bedside table. The weight of it in her hand seemed symbolic — not just of his trust, but of his willingness to let her have whatever she wanted. It was a powerful gesture, one that made her heart ache.

I can’t let this distract me. The thought pushed through her mind like a wave, trying to drown the emotions she felt stirring. She had a mission to complete, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by the tenderness of a man who didn’t deserve to die.

Ariella placed the card in her pocket, trying to steady her mind. There was no time to feel sorry for herself, no time to indulge in feelings of guilt or confusion. The mission still called.

She would enjoy Paris, but she would also continue to gather the information she needed to bring Victor down. She couldn’t afford to be the woman he thought she was — his loving wife. She had to remain the assassin. No matter how sweet his words were, how tender his love seemed, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by any of it.

But as she turned away from the window and looked back at the bed — the place where they had shared a moment of tenderness the night before — a fleeting thought crossed her mind. What if I could be someone else? Someone who didn’t have to carry this weight?

It was a dangerous thought. A thought that would cloud her focus. But it lingered, and for a moment, she allowed herself to entertain it.

Ariella shook her head, dispelling the fleeting thought. No. Not now. The mission came first.

Victor’s absence left a void in the room, but she knew one thing for certain: she was not going to let his love or his tenderness stop her from finishing what she started. And if that meant losing a part of herself in the process, so be it."