A Web Of Lies
864 Words
Ariana sat in stunned silence, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Rahaan was gone. Her only anchor in this nightmare—dead.
She could feel Dante’s piercing gaze on her, but she refused to look at him.
Everything inside her screamed to run. To escape before she drowned in this world he had pulled her into.
A sharp knock at the door broke the silence.
Dante straightened, his expression unreadable. He strode over and opened the door, revealing a man in his early thirties with dark hair and cold, calculating eyes.
“Ariana, meet Marcus,” Dante said smoothly.
Marcus’s gaze flickered to her, assessing her in a way that made her skin crawl.
“She’s more delicate than I expected,” Marcus murmured.
Ariana stiffened.
Dante ignored him. “Tell me.”
Marcus stepped inside, his posture rigid. “We confirmed it—Rahaan’s death wasn’t an accident. It was a direct hit. The car was tampered with.”
Ariana’s breath caught. Tampered?
Her hands clenched into fists. “Who did it?”
Marcus barely spared her a glance before answering. “We have two suspects. One is a familiar name—Mira.”
Ariana’s stomach dropped. “No. She wouldn’t—”
Marcus smirked. “She would. And she did.”
Ariana shook her head. Not again. Not another betrayal.
Dante’s voice was steady. “Who’s the second suspect?”
Marcus hesitated. “A woman named Eleanor.”
Ariana’s head snapped up. Eleanor?
She had met Eleanor a few times—Mira’s childhood friend. She had always been… quiet. Too quiet.
“What does Eleanor have to do with this?” Ariana demanded.
Marcus folded his arms. “She’s been working with someone high up. Someone who wanted Rahaan dead.”
Ariana’s pulse thundered in her ears.
How deep did this betrayal go?
Dante’s expression darkened. “Find Eleanor. Now.”
Marcus nodded once before slipping out of the room.
Before Ariana could process everything, a new voice broke the tension.
“Finally, someone believes me.”
Ariana turned sharply.
A girl stood at the doorway.
Clara.
Her long black hair was a mess, her eyes red as if she had been crying for days.
Ariana stiffened. Mira’s voice echoed in her head.
"Clara is the snake. She’s the one selling you out."
For so long, Ariana had believed it.
And now, here Clara was—looking nothing like the traitor Mira painted her to be.
Clara swallowed hard. “I need to talk to you.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get in here?”
Clara’s gaze flicked to him. “I have my ways.”
Ariana clenched her fists. Was this another trap?
Clara turned to her, stepping closer. “You have no idea what’s really happening, Ariana.”
Ariana hesitated. She wanted to believe Clara, but how could she?
Clara took a shaky breath. “Mira… she’s not who you think she is. She’s the reason Rahaan is dead.”
Ariana’s stomach twisted.
Dante watched Clara closely. “And what proof do you have?”
Clara exhaled, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a USB drive.
“This,” she said, her voice trembling, “is everything.”
Dante took the USB, weighing it in his hand.
Ariana’s heartbeat pounded.
She turned to Clara. “If you were innocent, why didn’t you say anything before?”
Clara’s jaw tightened. “I did.”
Her eyes burned with emotion.
“But you believed Mira instead.”
Ariana’s breath hitched. She had.
She had turned against Clara, let Mira twist her perception.
And now, she didn’t know what was real anymore.
Dante turned the USB over in his fingers before glancing at Marcus. “Check it.”
Marcus nodded, moving toward a laptop.
Ariana couldn’t tear her eyes away from Clara.
Clara exhaled shakily. “I came here because I don’t want you to make the same mistake again.”
Ariana swallowed hard.
She wanted to believe Clara.
But if she was right…
If Mira was the real traitor…
Then everything Ariana had known was a lie.
Marcus cursed under his breath. “Holy shit.”
Dante turned. “What?”
Marcus stared at the laptop screen, his face darkening.
“This… this is worse than we thought.”
Ariana’s blood ran cold.
She stepped forward. “What’s on it?”
Marcus hesitated, then turned the screen toward them.
Ariana’s world tilted on its axis.
It was a video.
Mira.
Standing over Rahaan’s wrecked car.
Smirking.
And then—whispering something to Eleanor.
The audio crackled.
"Make sure she never finds out it was me."
Ariana’s vision blurred.
Her knees almost buckled.
This was the truth.
This was who Mira really was.
And now, there was no denying it.
Mira had played her.
And she had let her.
Ariana’s hands shook with rage.
Dante watched her carefully. “What do you want to do, Angel?”
Ariana lifted her head, fury burning in her chest.
Her voice was steady.
“We find her.”
Dante smirked. Dark. Satisfied.
“Now you’re thinking like me.”
Ariana didn’t care.
Mira had made her choice.
Now it was her turn.
- Writer
