Fake Dating My Enemy's Son

Chapter 1 Aliyah's POV Flashback – Eleven Years Ago Thunder cracked so loud it shook the windows. I was eight, small enough to hide beneath my bed, clutching my stuffed bear while my world fell apart. “Please, he’s innocent!” Mom screamed. Boots pounded through the hall. The police stormed in, voices sharp with orders I didn’t understand. Daddy stood by his desk, papers scattered, hands trembling. “I didn’t do it,” he kept whispering. “I didn’t do it.” Then came the man in the long black coat, calm, cold, powerful. I could not see his face because it was covered. He signed something, nodded once, and the officers dragged my father away. My mom ran after the car, screaming and crying but it was all in vain. In a twinkling of an eye, my dad was gone and we lost everything beautiful. By morning the headlines called him a thief. By nightfall, he was gone for good. That was the night I stopped being a child. That was the night I learned what revenge tastes like. Present Day – The Masquerade Gala Eleven years later the Raven mansion glowed like a palace. Music spilled through crystal chandeliers; laughter clinked against champagne glasses. I wasn’t the frightened girl anymore. Now I was “Aliyah Monet,“ a celebrated Fashion and interior designer invited to New York’s most exclusive charity gala. No one knew I was here for payback. My mask was silver, my smile flawless. Every step, every word tonight was calculated. I would get close to the Ravens, find proof of what they’d done, and finish what fate started. Relax, I told myself, adjusting the mask. Smile. They’ll never see you coming.” Then I saw him. Damian Raven. The son of the man I hated. He stood beside the grand piano, black suit perfectly tailored to his body, and he acted high and mighty as though the world existed for only his amusement. When his gaze caught mine across the room, a strange current rippled through me, recognition, maybe, or danger wearing a handsome face. He crossed the crowd and disappeared from my sight, a masculine voice whispered from behind. “Beautiful mask,” he said, voice low enough to curl against my skin. “It hides the things I don’t want seen,” I replied. “Then you must be flawless underneath.” The line should have sounded rehearsed, but somehow it didn’t. I turned toward the balcony before he could notice my pulse racing. He followed, of course. Predators always do. On the balcony, rain shimmered beyond the glass doors. The city smelled of night and money. “You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys these events," he said, standing beside me. Neither do you, I answered. He smiled. For a moment his eyes softened, and I glimpsed something unexpected loneliness. But then he mentioned his father, and the spell broke. The name Raven still made my stomach knot. Do you always do what he wants? I asked. “Not always,” he said quietly. But sometimes it’s easier to wear the mask than start a war. He didn’t know how true that was for both of us. Later that night, while the orchestra played below, I slipped into the east wing. I’d memorized the layout of the mansion weeks ago. Private study was my goal. If I could find the documents linking Mr. Raven to my father’s case, the first piece of vengeance would be mine. The handle turned beneath my fingers and the door opened from the inside. Damian! You startled me, you must really know how to sneak up on people. His eyes narrowed. “Curiosity can be dangerous in this house. I was looking for the restroom, I blurted. In a locked study? I got lost! I lied, forcing a shaky laugh. He stepped closer, close enough that I caught the scent of cedar and whiskey. “My father keeps secrets, Miss Monet,” he murmured. “You shouldn’t go looking for them.” Then, softer, almost protective. Be careful. He brushed past me and was gone, leaving the air crackling in his wake. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from something far worse. The ride home was quiet. The limo glided through rain-washed streets. I stared out the window, replaying his words. He knew something or maybe he sensed that I wasn’t who I claimed to be. My phone buzzed. Uncle Vince: Did you find anything? Aliyah: No. He caught me near the study. Uncle Vince: Then get closer. The son is our key. I deleted the message, but his command stayed burned behind my eyes. Get closer. Fine. I’d get close enough to destroy them all. But somewhere deep inside, a whisper betrayed me. What if he’s not like his father? I ignored it. I had no room for doubt. Not now. The limo stopped at my apartment. Across the street, beneath a flickering lamp, a figure stood watching me. Tall. Still. Unmoving. Lightning flashed, he was gone. My pulse betrayed me. Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was just someone going about their day. Since the night my dad was betrayed by his closest associate, I developed proditiophobia. I can't trust anyone or anything around me I still can't heal or move on from the trauma of that night. They will all pay for their crimes Inside, I locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. My reflection in the mirror didn’t look like me anymore, just a stranger wearing vengeance like perfume. Damian’s voice echoed in my head: Be careful. He was supposed to be a target. So why did it feel like he’d become the trap?