ONCE UPON A TIME

Chapter 4

Aria’s POV:

So, in the six days I’ve been here, I’ve managed to get an apartment, catch up on the latest trends—which apparently revolve around World War Three—and come to the firm conclusion that Trump is an i***t. It’s been a whirlwind week, overwhelming in every way, but at least the food is good, and the clothes are even better.

I pulled up a copy of Xander’s schedule on my watch, my heart skipping a beat as I saw today was the day of a gala—an event hosted by one of the company’s largest shareholders. Definitely a suit kind of night. I’m not a huge fan of dresses, but heels? I can handle those.

Stepping into a Calvin Klein store, I immediately spotted a red suit that made my pulse quicken. The cut was perfect—sleek, sharp, with just the right amount of cleavage to make an undershirt optional. But to truly pull off the look, I needed to change my hair color. Blue hair wasn’t exactly gala-appropriate, and I needed to blend in with this world seamlessly.

I made my way to a hair salon nearby, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. As soon as I walked in, I was practically ambushed by a guy who looked like he’d been waiting his whole life for a chance to gush over someone’s hair.

“OMG, your hair is amazing!” he said breathlessly, running his hands through my blue locks again and again.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, half amused, half overwhelmed.

“Tony, stop molesting the girl,” a dark-skinned woman in her late 40s scolded, laughing as she approached. Tony frowned but retreated to the receptionist's desk.

“How may I help you?” she asked, giving me a warm smile.

“I want to dye my hair a natural color—brown, maybe,” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Black would look way better with a face like yours,” she said knowingly, eyeing me up and down.

“Brown is fine,” I said, determined.

“Not bugging you, but I have a color you’ll love,” she winked.

I sat down, heart pounding as the transformation began. I haven’t dyed my hair black since my mom died. People used to say I looked just like her, but after she passed, every glance in the mirror hurt too much. I went wild with colors for a while—purple, teal, electric blue—anything to avoid seeing her by myself. But I took care to keep my hair healthy, dying it only a few times a year.

Two hours later

My hair was a very dark shade of brown—almost black, but with enough warmth to catch the light just right. I loved it. I ran my fingers through the strands, smiling at my reflection like I hadn’t smiled in months.

“You like it?” Audre, the woman who had done my hair, asked, watching me closely.

“I love it,” I said, feeling the softness of my hair in a way I hadn’t in years.

“If I were straight, I’d totally get with you!” Tony hollered from across the salon. Audre laughed, shaking her head.

I paid and left, excitement bubbling in my chest. Tonight was going to be something else.

Back at my apartment, I took a quick shower, then did a little makeup to match my gold jewelry—a choker, earrings, rings, and a sleek watch. My black heels, studded with gold, were the perfect finishing touch. I gave myself one last look in the mirror and nodded in approval.

I slid into my black Maserati Granturismo MC Stradale, the engine roaring to life beneath me. The city lights blurred past as I drove toward the gala, anticipation tightening in my chest.

Xander’s POV:

I stood on the balcony overlooking the penthouse ballroom, watching the stream of guests arriving.

“Xander, the party is about to start,” Ashton, my friend and right-hand man, said as he joined me, adjusting his tie.

I let out a long sigh, pushing aside the flicker of nerves. This was just another night in my life, but somehow it felt heavier than usual. The deals I could close tonight might shape the company’s future—and mine.

I stepped inside, weaving through the crowd, exchanging handshakes and smiles. The usual mix of polished suits, sparkling gowns, and forced laughter surrounded me. But then I saw her.

She entered like a flame cutting through the darkness, wearing that red suit—the color rich and bold under the chandelier’s glow. Heads turned immediately, men’s eyes lingering, but she didn’t seem to notice. She moved with quiet confidence, standing in a corner with a glass of champagne, scanning the room.

Our eyes locked.

For a moment, everything else blurred into the background.

I was frozen, caught in that instant where the world shifts and nothing else seems real.

She smiled—soft, knowing, like she was in on a secret—and I tried to disentangle myself from a conversation with a few CEOs.

I needed to talk to her.

Before I could reach her, a waiter stepped up, but she looked annoyed.

“Aren’t you here to serve the guests?” I asked sharply.

“OH, sorry, Mr. Mossberg,” the waiter stammered, retreating quickly.

She giggled—a light, musical sound that made my chest tighten.

“Quite the way to scare off competition early,” I teased, stepping closer.

She looked up at me. Her eyes were a stunning shade of grey—like molten silver swirling in a storm. I couldn’t look away.

“Hi, I’m Aria,” she said, extending a hand.

“I’m Xander,” I replied, taking her hand in mine.

There was something electric in that simple touch, like the universe itself had tilted just slightly.

“So, you like to make an entrance,” I said, nodding toward her red suit.

“Only when it’s worth it,” she replied, her lips curving into a sly smile.

I found myself wanting to know everything about her—who she was, what she wanted. She had an air of mystery, and it pulled me in like a magnet.

“Can I get you a drink? Something stronger than champagne, maybe?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you offering or just trying to get me drunk?”

“Maybe both,” I said with a grin.

We moved toward the bar together, the noise of the party fading into a soft hum around us. For the first time in a long time, I felt something I hadn’t dared to hope for—connection.

And deep down, I wondered if fate had finally decided to play its hand.