Damn….
The word echoed in Aria's head as her fingers curled into the bedsheet.
If she didn't find that jewelry box, Mrs. Brooks would know. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not tonight. But the seed of suspicion had already been planted — and Aria could feel it, sharp and cold, settling somewhere deep in her chest.
She forced herself to breathe.
Slow. Steady.
Panicking would only make it worse.
"Well?" Mrs. Brooks asked gently, still standing by the door. Not impatient. Just waiting.
Aria turned, offering a sheepish smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think I might've put it in the bottom drawer," she said, walking toward the dresser with what she hoped looked like casual confidence.
She pulled the drawer open.
Nothing.
Her heart lurched, but she didn't let it show. She shuffled through the contents anyway — folded clothes, notebooks, a small pouch of pens — buying herself seconds. Precious seconds.
"I've been reorganizing lately," Aria added lightly. "Trying to declutter."
Mrs. Brooks hummed in acknowledgment, watching her with that same calm, maternal attention that suddenly felt dangerous.
Aria closed the drawer and moved to the desk instead, opening another at random. Still nothing.
This was bad.
Very bad.
She could feel sweat gathering at the back of her neck, her pulse pounding louder with each passing moment. Ava would've known exactly where it was. Ava would've answered without thinking.
Where did you keep it? Aria thought desperately. Where would you keep something important?
She glanced toward the bookshelf.
Slowly, deliberately, she crossed the room and crouched, pretending to scan the lower shelves. Her fingers brushed against a small wooden edge tucked behind a row of old textbooks.
She froze.
There.
Her breath caught as she pulled it out — a modest wooden jewelry box, slightly worn at the corners.
Relief crashed over her so hard her knees nearly buckled.
"Oh," Aria said softly, straightening. "Here it is."
Mrs. Brooks smiled. "I thought so. You always hide important things in strange places."
Aria let out a small laugh, hoping it didn't sound too forced. "Guess I do."
Mrs. Brooks stepped forward, taking the box from her hands. For a brief second, her gaze lingered on Aria's face — thoughtful, searching.
"You've been doing alright, haven't you?" she asked.
The question was gentle.
That made it worse.
"Yes," Aria replied immediately. Then, correcting herself, added, "Just tired. School's been… a lot."
Mrs. Brooks nodded, satisfied enough. "Try not to carry everything alone, okay?"
"I won't," Aria promised — even though she already was.
Mrs. Brooks turned to leave, pausing once more at the door. "Good night, Ava."
"Good night," Aria said.
The door closed.
Only then did Aria allow herself to exhale.
She sat heavily on the bed, hands trembling as she reached for Ava's phone again. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts racing back across cities, across danger, across that elegant dining hall where Ava was pretending to be someone else entirely.
She typed quickly.
Aria:
That was too close.
Are you okay? Please answer me.
The message sent.
No reply.
Aria stared at the screen, dread pooling in her stomach.
Whatever Matthias was doing…
Whatever Ava was walking into…
Aria knew one thing for certain now:
They were both lying to people who knew them far too well.
And lies like that didn't stay contained for long.
Ava's reply came through a few seconds later.
Aria's phone vibrated in her hand, sharp and sudden.
She snatched it up immediately.
Ava:
I'm here.
I'm okay.
Just… barely.
Relief hit first — fast and overwhelming — then fear rushed in right behind it.
Aria:
What happened?
You went silent.
Three dots appeared.
Paused.
Disappeared.
Then came the reply.
Ava:
He knows.
Aria's breath caught.
Aria:
Who.
The response took longer this time.
Too long.
Ava:
Matthias.
He's known since before dinner.
Aria sat up straighter, the weight of the words settling in her chest like stone.
Aria:
Ava.
Did he say anything to anyone?
Ava:
No.
He stopped them.
Aria frowned, unease threading through the relief.
Aria:
Stopped them how?
Another pause.
Aria could almost picture Ava right now — carefully composed, heart racing, choosing each word like it might detonate if mishandled.
Ava:
He redirected.
Covered for me.
Made it look like I was just nervous.
Aria's fingers tightened around the phone.
That wasn't comfort.
That was leverage.
Aria:
Why would he help you?
The dots appeared again. Stayed this time.
Ava:
Because it benefited him.
Aria closed her eyes.
Of course.
Ava:
He made it clear.
I owe him now.
Aria swung her legs off the bed, pacing the room slowly, carefully, as if too much movement might send her spiraling.
Aria:
That's not good.
That's not good at all.
Ava:
I know.
But if he hadn't stepped in, I would've slipped.
They were asking about names, ages—things you never told me.
Guilt flared sharp and immediate.
Aria:
I should've prepared you better.
Ava:
No.
You couldn't have predicted this.
They weren't just curious — they were hunting.
Aria stopped pacing.
Hunting.
The word settled cold in her stomach.
Aria:
What does he want?
The reply came quicker this time.
Too quick.
Ava:
He didn't say.
That's what scares me.
Silence stretched between messages, heavy and loaded.
Then:
Ava:
Aria…
If this goes wrong—
Aria:
Don't.
We'll handle it before it does.
Ava didn't reply immediately.
When she did, it was shorter.
Ava:
I don't think he's going to expose me.
Not yet.
Aria:
"Yet" is doing a lot of work there.
Ava:
Yeah.
Aria sank back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere else, under crystal chandeliers and watchful eyes, Ava was sitting beside a man who knew the truth — and was choosing to keep it like a secret weapon.
Aria:
Listen to me.
Do not volunteer anything.
Let him lead conversations if he insists.
If anyone asks something you're unsure about, deflect.
Ask them a question instead.
Ava:
He already noticed that I hesitate.
Aria swallowed.
Aria:
Then hesitate less — or not at all.
Confidence covers more lies than accuracy ever will.
A moment passed.
Then:
Ava:
I danced with him.
Aria blinked.
Aria:
What.
Ava:
He used it as a distraction.
Guided me the whole time.
Everyone was watching — no one was questioning.
Aria exhaled slowly.
Aria:
That's… strategic.
Ava:
That's Matthias.
The name sat between them, heavy and ominous.
Aria:
Ava.
If at any point you feel like you're losing control—
Ava:
I already have.
Aria's chest tightened.
Ava:
But I'm still standing.
And for now… I'm still believable.
Aria stared at the screen, dread and determination tangling together.
Aria:
Then we adapt.
Both of us.
Ava:
Yeah.
A final message appeared.
Ava:
Stay alert on your end too.
I don't think we're the only ones pretending anymore.
Aria locked the phone, the room suddenly feeling much smaller.
Two cities apart.
Two lies running in parallel.
And one man standing right at the center of it all.
Whatever game Matthias was playing—
They were no longer just surviving it.
They were inside it.
*****
Morning light spilled softly through the curtains, brushing across Ava's face as she slowly woke. The quiet hum of the city outside contrasted sharply with the storm in her chest. Today was… different. Today, she would be going to Aria's school. Acting like Aria.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, eyes immediately drawn to the uniform laid neatly on her chair. Ava had never worn a school uniform before—hoodies, joggers, and her usual casual clothes had been her armor for years. This… this was something else entirely.
The blazer felt heavy in her hands as she picked it up, its smooth, expensive fabric unlike anything she had touched. The skirt was stiff, perfectly pressed, falling neatly above the knee. Even the shirt beneath seemed formal, the collar starched and unyielding. She hesitated.
Stepping into the uniform was like stepping into another life. Every button fastened with care, every adjustment deliberate. She tugged at the blazer sleeves, smoothed the skirt, and slipped her feet into the polished shoes. Each step across her bedroom floor was cautious, awkward, the sound echoing slightly like a warning.
Ava caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. The girl staring back was poised, elegant, neat—but not her. Not Ava. She was taller, slimmer in the structured lines of Aria's uniform, more polished than she had ever been. The medals, the casual confidence, even the familiarity of her own skin felt hidden beneath this guise.
Her stomach churned as a thought surfaced, unwanted but persistent. And Matthias will be there.
The memory of last night—the dance, the careful control, his smirk as he claimed her for his own game—tightened her chest. He hadn't just saved her; he had set the rules, and every step she took in that uniform reminded her of the board she was now part of.
She shoved the thought away with a shudder, focusing on the morning routine instead. Hair pinned loosely, a few curls framing her face, bag packed with Aria's books—everything she could do to inhabit the role fully.
Breakfast with Aria's parents was tasking as usual. She responded with a cautious smile, nodding, saying "Yes, of course" and "That sounds lovely" at the right moments.
She sighed in relief when meal ended. She followed the chauffeur out to the sleek black car waiting in the driveway. Just as Aria had instructed. The polished leather and soft hum of the engine made her stomach flip.
Sliding into the seat, she sank back against the smooth leather.
"Wow. This is… fancy. I feel weird. Like… royalty? Or someone's daughter who doesn't screw up? Keep it together, Ava. Don't drool on the seat. Not a good first impression". She murmured all in one breath.
The car glided through the streets toward school. Ava stared out the tinted window, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She saw buildings she had never seen before, everything and everyone was unfamiliar. Then her mind travelled back to the one person she should totally avoid.
Her pulse quickened at the thought of him. Matthias. The memory of last night—the questioning, the dance—made her fingers twitch nervously against her skirt.
"Oh no. Oh God, he's gonna be there" She said visibly panicking.
"He's gonna see me. He knows. He knows everything. Calm. Just… walk normally". She said lastly reassuring herself.
The car turned smoothly into the school gates, which opened automatically. The school loomed ahead, immaculate and imposing. Students in crisp uniforms milled about, their whispers and glances amplifying Ava's nervousness.
The chauffeur stopped and after she took deep breaths, she swung the door open, stepping onto the stone driveway. Her heels clicked lightly against the polished pavement.
Then she froze. Another car had pulled up just behind hers.
And as she looked, her stomach dropped.
Matthias stepped out. His uniform immaculate, his expression unreadable—but that smirk… that smirk sent a jolt straight through her chest.
His gaze locked onto her. And then, with that infuriating calm, he said:
"Good morning, fiancée."
Ava's mind went blank.
Oh no. Oh no no no. Why. Why is he here? Oh God. Oh God...