The Wrong Penthouse

Chapter Nine: The Cost of Loyalty

Ariana Cole

My fingers tightened around the phone.

For several seconds after Damian's confession, I couldn't find my voice. He had called off the engagement.

The words echoed inside my head like a storm. Part of me should have been relieved. Another part should have been happy.

Instead, all I felt was fear. "Ariana?"

His voice was quiet. As if he already knew what my answer would be. I closed my eyes.

"Why?"

A heavy silence followed. Then he sighed.

"Because I was lying to everyone."

My chest tightened. "Damian—"

"No." His voice became firmer. "I spent years convincing myself I could do it. That eventually I would love Chloe the way she deserved."

I looked out the hotel window. The city stretched endlessly beneath me. Bright.

Busy. Completely unaware that my world was falling apart.

"But I don't."

The honesty in his voice hurt more than it should have.

"Damian, stop."

"No." He sounded frustrated now.

"Not this time." I swallowed hard. "You barely know me."

"I know enough."

His answer came immediately. Too soon.

"I know how I feel when I'm around you."

I squeezed my eyes shut. This was exactly what I didn't need. Because part of me wanted to believe him. Part of me wanted to forget everything else and choose the easier path. But Chloe existed. And that changed everything.

"She's my best friend."

"I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

His exhale crackled through the phone. "Because I can't pretend anymore."

The pain in his voice almost broke me. Almost. But not enough. "Damian." My voice trembled. "We can't do this."

Silence. Then: "Can we at least try?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. Because he wasn't asking for a relationship. He wasn't asking for forever. He was simply asking for a chance. And somehow that made it worse. I shook my head despite knowing he couldn't see me.

"No."

Another silence. Longer this time. More painful. Finally, he laughed softly. Not because he found anything funny. Because he was disappointed.

"I thought you'd say that."

Tears burned behind my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

"Because I don't want to hurt you."

His voice softened.

"Then don't."

My heart cracked. For one dangerous moment, I imagined saying yes. Just yes. No guilt. No consequences. No Chloe. No impossible choices. Just us. But life didn't work that way. And neither did loyalty.

"I can't." The words felt like broken glass. "I love Chloe." The moment the sentence left my mouth, I realized how true it was.

Not romantic love. But the kind of love built over years. The kind of love that doesn't disappear overnight.

Damian was quiet for a very long time.

Then he said something that made my chest ache.

"I wish I had met you first."

A tear slipped down my cheek. Before I could answer, the line went dead. He had hung up. I stared at my phone. A minute later, it rang again. Damian. I couldn't answer. The phone stopped. Then rang again. Damian. Again. Three missed calls.

Each one felt heavier than the last. But I ignored every single one. Because if I answered, I wasn't sure I would stay strong.

The next evening, I went to the hospital. The familiar smell of disinfectant greeted me the moment I stepped through the entrance. Hospitals had always felt cold to me. Not because of the temperature. Because of the memories. Too many tears.

Too many prayers. Too much waiting. I made my way to my mother's room.

When I pushed open the door, she was awake. Reading. Or at least pretending to read. Her smile appeared the moment she saw me.

"There she is."

I forced a smile. "Hi, Mom."

She immediately frowned. "Mmm."

"What?"

"You look tired."

I laughed softly. "You say that every time you see me."

"Because every time I see you, you look tired."

Despite everything, I smiled. That was my mother. Always worrying about everyone except herself.

I sat beside her bed. The cancer had changed her. She was thinner now. But somehow still stronger than anyone I knew.

She reached over and squeezed my hand.

"What happened?"

I looked away. Nothing got past her. Nothing ever had.

"Work."

The lie sounded weak. She gave me a look. The same look she used when I was ten years old and trying to hide a bad report card.

"Ariana."

I sighed. "I'm fine."

She studied me for several seconds. Then thankfully let it go. For now.

"What about your father?" she asked.

The question instantly ruined my mood. I stared at the floor. "I haven't seen him."

Her expression saddened me. Lucas Cole. My father. A man who loved cigarettes more than responsibility. A man who loved alcohol more than his family.

Growing up, I had spent years waiting for him to become the father I deserved. Eventually, I stopped waiting.

"He hasn't called?" I shook my head.

"No." My mother sighed.

I hated seeing disappointment in her eyes.

Even after everything he had done, a small part of her still hoped he would change.

I wasn't sure why.

Maybe love makes people foolish. Maybe that's what I was learning myself. The next two hours passed quietly. We talked about small things. Movies. Childhood memories.

Anything except cancer. Anything except bills. Anything except the growing fear sitting permanently inside my chest. Because the truth was simple. We were running out of money. The treatments were expensive. The hospital wasn't going to wait forever. And every day that passed brought new costs.

The two million dollars Damian had offered flashed through my mind. The amount was life-changing. Enough to pay every bill. Enough to help my mother. Enough to solve problems that had haunted me for years. But it came at a price. And some prices felt too high.

When I finally checked the time, I realized nearly two hours had passed.

"I should go."

My mother smiled. "Come back tomorrow."

"I will." I kissed her forehead. Then I left.

It was nearly eight-thirty by the time I reached my apartment building. The streets were dark. The city lights blurred through my exhaustion.

I paid the cab driver and climbed the stairs. All I wanted was sleep. Maybe then my life would make sense again. But the moment I reached my apartment door, something felt wrong. I stopped. The door was slightly open. My stomach dropped. I knew I had locked it.

Slowly, I pushed it open. "Hello?"

No answer. Silence. A terrible silence. My heart pounded. I stepped inside. The apartment looked normal.

Then I noticed the wardrobe door hanging open. Cold dread spread through me. I rushed toward it. My hands shook as I searched through the shelves. No.

The metal lockbox was gone. Panic surged through me. I searched again.

And then I saw it. Lying on the floor. Empty. My blood ran cold. I grabbed it.

I opened it. Nothing. Every dollar was gone. All ten thousand dollars. The money I had spent years saving for my mother's treatment. The money Chloe had helped me add to whenever things got difficult. Gone.

Only one person had a spare key. My father. I sank onto the floor. Shock giving way to horror. "Dad..." The whisper barely left my lips. Because deep down, I already knew the truth.

Lucas Cole had stolen the money. And my mother needed that money to survive.