Billionaire Secret Twin Heir

Chapter 12: Vanishing Act

The sound of scissors slicing through plastic echoed in Samantha's kitchen as I cut up another credit card. My hands shook slightly, but I forced myself to finish the job. Each snip felt like cutting away a piece of my old life.

"Are you sure about this?" Samantha asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. The concern in her eyes made my throat tighten.

"I have to be," I replied, dropping the plastic shards into a small pile. "If I keep using these cards, they can track me."

Three weeks had passed since the divorce was finalized. Three weeks of planning, plotting, and preparing to disappear. The settlement money had finally hit my account yesterday—seventy-five thousand dollars for five years of my life. It would have to be enough.

"Run me through the plan again," Samantha said, sliding a mug of ginger tea toward me. She knew about the morning sickness now—one of only two people in the world who knew I was carrying Michael's child.

I cupped the warm mug between my palms, inhaling the spicy aroma. "First thing tomorrow, I withdraw most of the cash. Not all of it—that would raise flags. I'll leave about five thousand in the account and let it slowly drain over the next few months through automatic payments."

"And the new ID?"

"Your cousin's friend came through." I reached into my purse and pulled out a driver's license with my photo but a different name. Anna Collins. My new identity. "Birth certificate and social security card should be ready by Friday."

Samantha nodded, but her eyebrows remained furrowed. "What about prenatal care? These baby need a doctor, Aria."

"I found a clinic three hours from here that takes cash payments. I'll use the Anna Collins ID." I sipped the tea, letting the ginger soothe my rolling stomach. "I've got it handled, Sam."

"And when the baby are born? How are you going to work? Support three people?"

I'd asked myself these questions a thousand times over the past three weeks. "I've been freelancing for that design agency for two years now. They don't need to know where I live to send me work. I can do it remotely, build a client base."

Samantha didn't look convinced. "And if Michael finds out? If he comes looking for you?"

"He won't." I set the mug down with more force than intended, tea sloshing over the rim. "Who would tell him? You're the only person who knows, and Dr. Matthews can't break confidentiality."

She reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. "I would never betray you, Ari. You know that. But Michael has resources—private investigators, connections. His family basically owns half the state."

"Which is exactly why I need to disappear." I pulled my hand away, grabbing a dish towel to mop up the spilled tea. "If they find out about these baby, they'll take them from me. You saw what they did in court. They'll paint me as unstable, unfit. They'll use their money and influence to get custody."

The thought sent a chill through me. I'd already lost everything else—I wouldn't lose my child too.

My phone buzzed on the counter, Michael's name flashing on the screen. Again. This was his fifth call today.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Samantha asked.

I shook my head, silencing the phone. "Nothing left to say."

But the phone started buzzing again immediately. Something twisted in my chest—worry, maybe? What if something was wrong?

Against my better judgment, I picked up. "Hello?"

"Aria." Michael's voice sounded rough, like he hadn't slept. "Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for days."

"I know. I've been busy."

"Can we meet? Please? I need to talk to you in person."

I closed my eyes, picturing his face—the face I'd loved for so long. The face I still saw in my dreams, damn it all. "There's nothing to talk about, Michael."

"There's everything to talk about." His voice dropped lower. "I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. I should have fought harder for us."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Now you realize that? After the divorce is final? After your family took everything from me?"

"I'll make it right. Whatever you need—money, a place to stay. Anything."

"I don't want your money." Though God knew I needed it.

"Then what do you want? Tell me, and it's yours."

What I wanted? I wanted the last five months erased. I wanted to never have walked in on him with Jessica. I wanted a husband who chose me over his family's expectations. I wanted a world where my child wouldn't be pawns in the Walton family's legacy games.

"I want you to stop calling me," I said finally, each word like glass in my throat. "It's over, Michael. We're over."

Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words.

"I still love you," he said finally.

My eyes burned. I blinked hard, refusing to cry. Not for him. Not anymore. "Love isn't enough. It never was for us."

I ended the call before he could respond, before my resolve could weaken any further.

Samantha watched me carefully. "You okay?"

"I will be." I shoved the phone in my purse. "Let's finish this."

For the next two hours, we methodically erased Aria Campbell. I deleted social media accounts, changed email passwords, packed only what couldn't be traced or replaced. The life I'd built with Michael—designer clothes, jewelry, keepsakes—all stayed behind. Only a few photographs and my grandmother's locket made the cut.

By midnight, everything I owned fit into two suitcases and a backpack.

"You should try to sleep," Samantha said, folding the last of the clothes I was taking. "Big day tomorrow."

I nodded, though sleep felt impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Michael's face, heard his voice. I saw the Walton mansion where I'd lived as lady of the house, now lost to me forever. I imagined Elizabeth's triumph when she realized I was gone for good.

But stronger than all of that was the image of my child in the Waltons' clutches, raised to continue their cold dynasty. That image alone was enough to steel my resolve.

Morning came too quickly and not soon enough. I dressed in nondescript clothes—jeans, a plain t-shirt, a baseball cap pulled low over my eyes. Nothing like the designer outfits Aria Campbell would wear.

Samantha drove me to the bank in her old Honda, a car the Waltons would never look twice at. We'd checked for surveillance, made sure no one followed us. Paranoid? Maybe. But necessary.

"Wait here," I told her, slipping on sunglasses before entering the bank.

The transaction was nerve-wracking but smooth. I withdrew sixty thousand in cash, leaving the rest to slowly drain from automatic payments I'd set up. The teller looked suspicious but didn't question me. One advantage of the Walton name—even now, no one questioned large cash withdrawals.

Back in the car, I stashed the money in a specially designed money belt under my clothes and in hidden compartments of my luggage that Samantha's cousin had modified.

"Next stop?" Samantha asked, pulling away from the bank.

"The train station. Then you're driving my car to the airport long-term parking as we discussed."

She nodded, but her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles whitened. "I hate this, Ari. I hate that you have to run like a criminal when you've done nothing wrong."

"I know. But it's the only way to protect my babies."

We drove in silence for a while, the reality of what I was doing settling heavily between us. I was about to vanish, to cut ties with everything and everyone I knew. Except Samantha. I couldn't lose her too.

"I've set up that secure email," I said as we approached the train station. "Check it once a week. I'll send updates when I can."

"Be careful with that," she warned. "They might monitor my accounts if they get suspicious."

"I will be." I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Sam. For everything."

She sniffed, fighting back tears. "Just take care of yourself and those babies. And when it's safe, let me visit. I want to be the cool aunt who spoils them rotten."

"You will be," I promised, though we both knew it might be years before that was possible.

The train station was busy with morning commuters—perfect for blending in. Samantha helped me with my bags, and we stood awkwardly at the entrance, both aware this might be the last time we saw each other for a long while.

"I got you something," she said, pulling a small package from her pocket. Inside was a prepaid phone, simple and untraceable. "For emergencies only. I've programmed my number in it."

I hugged her fiercely, memorizing the feel of my best friend's arms around me, the scent of her floral shampoo. "I love you."

"Love you too," she whispered, voice thick with tears. "Now go, before I kidnap you and lock you in my basement to keep you safe."

With a final squeeze, I pulled away, shouldered my backpack, and grabbed my suitcases. I was ten steps away when I heard his voice.

"Aria!"

I froze, ice flooding my veins.