The gala was held in a mirrored hall dripping with wealth.
Crystal chandeliers. Violin quartets. Velvet-draped tables and people who wielded power with smiles sharper than switchblades.
And in the middle of it all, stood Aaria.
Aaria Viraan.
Not the intern. Not the college girl from a shattered home.
But the woman who stood beside Rafael Viera with her spine straight, in a black gown he had chosen, wearing a necklace that cost more than her tuition.
The moment they walked in, the room split. Whispers. Stares. Envy wrapped in couture and greed.
But Rafael didn't care.
He had his hand on her waist, and that was enough to silence nations.
"You look like a man who owns the world," she said softly.
He leaned closer. "I don't need to. I own you. That's enough."
Her heart twisted. In fear. In want. In all the things she could no longer name.
They moved through the crowd like a storm dressed in black satin and perfume.
But Aaria couldn't shake the feeling that something was… off.
And then—she saw her.
Across the ballroom.
A woman.
Tall.
Scarlet dress.
Lips like venom.
Eyes like knives.
And suddenly, the air vanished.
It was her.
Aaria's stepmother.
The one who used to whisper poison into her ear.
Who locked the doors.
Who laughed when Aaria screamed behind them.
Her pulse raced.
She hadn't seen that woman in years.
But the moment their eyes met, the woman smiled.
And it wasn't surprise on her face.
It was recognition.
She walked toward Aaria slowly. Casually. Like they were long-lost friends.
Rafael noticed.
His grip on Aaria's waist tightened.
"Who is she?" he asked quietly.
Aaria couldn't speak.
"Tell me," he said again, voice low.
She swallowed. "My stepmother."
The words burned.
But Rafael's face changed. Not to anger. Not even violence.
To stillness.
The kind that only ever came before chaos.
"I did some digging," the woman said sweetly as she approached. "Imagine my surprise when I found out the little rat we buried is now the pet of Rafael Viera."
"Walk away," Rafael said.
Her stepmother's smile grew. "Or what? You'll kill me too?"
His hand slid into his jacket. Not to draw a gun. But because his knife was faster.
Aaria grabbed his arm.
"Not here," she whispered. "Not like this."
He didn't take his eyes off the woman.
"She hurt you."
"She can't anymore."
The woman laughed. "Isn't this adorable? You think you're safe just because you're in silk? Girl, monsters don't stop chasing you. They just hide better."
She turned and walked away.
But Rafael didn't.
Not for a long time.
His body was still. But his eyes…
Those were full of war.
Back in the car, neither of them spoke.
The city blurred past. The silence thickened.
Then finally—Aaria said, "You saw her file, didn't you? All those years ago."
He nodded once.
"She used to lock me in a red room," Aaria whispered. "No lights. Just screams."
Rafael's jaw clenched so tight it cracked.
"I will end her."
Aaria shook her head.
"No. We will."
He looked at her, surprised.
But what he saw in her now wasn't the girl he pulled from the shadows.
It was a woman who had walked through fire and came back asking for gasoline.
And maybe, just maybe…
She was finally ready to become what he was never allowed to be—
Free.