Velvet Lies

Chapter 4: Every Beautiful Thing Has Teeth

The most devastating betrayals often aren’t committed by enemies, but by those who once called themselves friends.

Aria sat silently, staring at the weathered photograph until the first light of dawn crept in through her window.

In the picture, Vanessa Vale and Nora Rivers smiled warmly—pregnant, radiant, and seemingly inseparable. Best friends. Yet, nothing about the image made sense anymore. If their families had once shared a close bond, how did their relationship descend into a saga of murder and revenge? And why had her mother never mentioned Nora Rivers before?

The weight of the silver lighter felt heavy in Aria’s hand, its cold surface a stark reminder of how personal and invasive Kael’s presence now seemed—like he had embedded himself directly into her consciousness. Not merely into her life, but into her mind. A thought that sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her growing fear.

At breakfast, the atmosphere at the Vale estate felt heavy, as if they were gathered in a funeral parlour. Vanessa sipped her coffee calmly, absorbed in headlines on her tablet:

SENATOR VALE INVOLVED IN LEAKED SCANDAL?

POLITICAL INVESTIGATION EXPECTED

VIDEO FOOTAGE SHOCKS BELLMONT

Meanwhile, her father appeared tense beneath his carefully composed expression. No one spoke of the events of the previous night—no mention of Kael, no acknowledgment of the photograph tucked inside Aria’s hoodie pocket. It was as if everyone was pretending, again, to keep the fragile peace.

Finally, Adrian broke the silence.

“You’ll stay home from university today,” he said softly, looking directly at her.

Aria blinked in surprise.

“What?” she managed.

“It’s temporary,” he replied, voice firm but gentle.

“So, I’m imprisoned here now?” she shot back, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“You’re being protected,” Vanessa interjected without looking up, her eyes still on her tablet. “There’s a difference.”

Almost instinctively, Aria nearly laughed. Protection—sure. Because apparently, boys returned from the dead were now lurking in her shadows. Suddenly, her father’s phone rang, shattering the moment. He answered immediately.

“Yes?” he responded, listening intently.

A silence stretched between them, tense and foreboding.

“When?” His face darkened as he absorbed the news.

Another pause. Vanessa lowered her coffee cup cautiously, her brow furrowing.

“What happened?” she inquired quietly.

Adrian ended the call abruptly.

“The warehouse burned down.”

Aria’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What warehouse?” she asked, searching their faces for answers.

Neither of her parents responded. Her father rose quickly from his seat.

“I need to leave,” he stated abruptly.

Vanessa was on her feet in an instant.

“Was anyone inside?” she asked, voice steady.

“No survivors,” he answered grimly. The words hung in the air, cold and clinical. It startled Aria; the normalcy in their tone felt detached from the tragedy.

Her father grabbed his coat and turned to her.

“You stay here,” he ordered.

Both parents exited quickly, leaving her frozen in place. She sat for several seconds, stomach twisting at the coldness of their words—something about the way he said ‘no survivors’ made her uneasy.

Her phone buzzed beneath the table—unknown number. Again.

She answered immediately.

“What do you want?" she demanded.

A calm, smooth voice responded.

“You should stop asking that question. The answer changes every hour.”

Today, his tone was less mocking, more measured—yet somehow even scarier.

“What warehouse burned down?” she pressed.

A pause, then:

“You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Her jaw tightened.

“Stop talking like you know me.”

“I do know you.”

“No, you know my last name.”

Silence. Then she heard the faint inhale of a cigarette.

“You bite harder than I expected,” he murmured.

Her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice—her body reacting involuntarily.

"Answer the question," she demanded.

“That warehouse belonged to a business partner of your father’s,” he explained calmly.

“And?” she pressed.

“Someone inside was about to testify.”

Her breath caught.

“What?"

“He can’t testify now," Kael said softly, the cold tone laced with menace.

The realization hit her like icy water—no survivors. Her father hadn’t sounded shocked; he sounded informed.

“Oh my God…” she whispered.

Kael chuckled.

“That reaction,” he said softly, “is exactly when rich girls realize their families aren’t as noble as they seem.”

A sharp pang struck her chest, painful and raw.

"You’re lying," she accused.

“Am I?” he replied calmly.

“I don’t even know you!”

Another pause, thick with tension.

Then his voice lowered, intimate and dangerous.

“But I know you, Aria.”

Her name sounded strange on his lips—intimate, almost dangerous.

“You drink champagne when anxious,” he continued casually. “You tug your bracelet when nervous. You pretend confidence when you’re cornered. And every night around two, you sit by your bedroom window, convinced no one notices.”

Aria froze completely. Her skin prickled with fear.

How long had he been watching her?

Slowly, dread crept up her spine.

"You’ve been stalking me," she accused.

“No,” Kael corrected softly. “I’ve been studying you.”

In that moment, the line between terrifying and thrilling blurred—an awful second of realization.

She hated herself for noticing.

"What do you actually want from me?” she asked softly.

His answer came without hesitation.

"You."

Her heart raced violently.

Then, almost lazily,

"Relax. If I wanted to destroy you already, I would have."

The call ended. Aria sat there, breathing unevenly, staring at her phone.

A second later, a new message flashed across the screen:

ADDRESS SENT

Below it, a location in downtown Bellmont:

OBSIDIAN CLUB — 11:00 P.M.

Before she could process it, another message arrived:

COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUR MOTHER.

At 11:02 P.M., the neon lights cast a vibrant glow of red and purple across the bustling streets as Aria stood outside the Obsidian Club. The muffled thrum of music vibrated through the walls, blending with the hum of luxury cars parked along the curb. Inside, the air was thick with opulence and anticipation as attractive patrons, laughter spilling from their lips, entered in a carefree procession—inebriated, oblivious to the world outside. The entire establishment emanated an unmistakable aura of danger, a seductive peril woven into every detail.

Aria’s black dress suddenly felt suffocating—too tight, too revealing, too conspicuous. She grappled with the realization that she probably shouldn’t be here. This was reckless, bordering on insane. Yet, her resolve remained unshaken; she needed answers.

A towering guard, alert and stern, opened the door after a glance at his phone, showing no interest in questions or explanations. Inside, chaos reigned: pulsating music thundered through the club’s interior, bodies pressed and swayed beneath the flashing, kaleidoscopic lights, while tendrils of smoke curled through the air. The scent of expensive liquor mixed with the faint, underlying aroma of secrets and illicit desires. Dark corners beckoned with promises of sin masquerading as glamour.

Despite feeling completely out of place amidst the extravagance and hedonism, Aria’s attention sharpened when she noticed something unusual—people’s eyes weren’t just passing over her; they were fixed, scrutinizing her with deliberate intent.

Whispers began to circulate, soft but unmistakable:

"That’s her.”

"Vale’s daughter?”

"She actually came?"

A strange twist of confusion and nerves churned within her. Suddenly, the music cut out abruptly, plunging the entire club into silence. Without warning, every light inside the Obsidian shifted and focused upward toward the VIP balcony.

There, standing composed and commanding, was Kael Rivers. Clad in a sleek black shirt, silver rings gleamed on his fingers, and a cigarette was casually held between his lips. His piercing gaze locked onto her as if he had been waiting for this moment for years.

After a moment of tense stillness, he offered a slow, deliberate smile. Just then, the crowd erupted into applause, acknowledging his presence and perhaps, acknowledging her as well.