Vivan pov
I went back to my room and pulled out my secret burner phone—the one the facility didn’t know about and started making calls. If Sophia talked, I needed an alibi. I needed proof I was too unstable, too dicated, too out of it to have planned anything.
And I needed to warn Marcus. Because if this setup failed, it ant Aria was smarter than we thought, way more dangerous.
Which ant we needed to change tactics entirely. My brother-in-law answered on the third ring. "Vivian, to what do I owe the displeasure?"
"The hotel setup failed," I said bluntly. "Aria saw through it. Sophia’s probably getting arrested as we speak."
Silence. Then: "Interesting."
"Interesting? That’s all you have to say?"
"It ans Aria’s not the broken little girl anymore," Marcus said thoughtfully. "It ans she’s learned to think like us, to anticipate threats."
"So what do we do?"
"We stop playing gas," he said. "Stop trying to manipulate them emotionally because it’s not working. We need to hit where they can’t defend—their son."
My blood chilled. "Noah? You want to go after Noah again?"
"Not kidnap him." Marcus’s voice was cold. "That was too direct. No—we make them choose. Business or family, power or love. We force them to sacrifice one to save the other."
"How?"
"Leave that to ." He hung up.
I sat in my sterile room, staring at the walls, and smiled slowly. Sophia had failed, the hotel setup had failed. But Marcus? Marcus never failed.
And when he destroyed Aria’s perfect little world, I would be there to watch her crumble. Just like she’d watched crumble.
Aria’s POV
The hospital was chaotic—doctors, nurses, toxicology tests, police officers asking questions. I sat in a plastic chair outside Damien’s room, still wearing the clothes I’d thrown on that morning, and felt strangely calm.
Officer Reyes, a kind-faced woman in her forties, sat across from . "Walk through what happened again, Ms. Monroe."
"I received an anonymous text." I pulled out my phone, showing her. "Telling my fiancé was at the Riverside Hotel with another woman. When I arrived, I found him unconscious and Sophia Clarke staging compromising photos."
"And you imdiately called 911 instead of assuming infidelity?" She made notes.
"Damien wasn’t moving, he wasn’t responsive. That’s not drunk or willing—that’s drugged." I kept my voice steady. "I’ve seen him drunk. I’ve seen him angry, tired, stressed. This was different. dical ergencies are different."
"You and Mr. Blackwood have a complicated history," Officer Reyes said carefully. "Including allegations that he was unfaithful during your previous relationship."
"Yes." I t her eyes. "Which is exactly why this was clearly a setup. Soone knew that history and tried to use it against us. Against specifically."
"Ms. Clarke is claiming Mr. Blackwood ca willingly. That they had drinks together and things progressed naturally."
"Then the toxicology report will prove she’s lying." I crossed my arms. "And hotel security footage will show her luring him there under false pretenses."
Officer Reyes studied for a long mont. "You’re very calm for soone who just found her fiancé in bed with another woman."
"I’m furious," I corrected. "But at her, not him. Because I know the difference between Damien making a choice and Damien being drugged unconscious. And I’m not letting soone destroy what we’ve rebuilt based on a pathetic fra job."
"That’s quite a bit of trust for a man who hurt you before."
"People change." My voice was firm. "And I’ve seen him change. I’ve watched him prove himself day after day for months now. So yes, I trust him. And I’m pressing charges against Sophia Clarke for assault, drugging, and attempted blackmail."
"The photos were sent to several dia outlets," Officer Reyes warned. "They’ll be public soon."
"Let them be public." I stood. "Because when the truth cos out—when everyone knows Damien was drugged and assaulted—Sophia will be the one destroyed, not us."
A doctor erged from Damien’s room. "Ms. Monroe? He’s waking up. You can see him now."
My heart leaped. "Is he okay?"
"Rohypnol in his system, moderate dose. He’ll be disoriented and nauseous for a while, but he’ll make a full recovery." The doctor’s expression was sympathetic. "He’s very lucky you found him when you did."
"Can I" I gestured at the door.
"Go ahead."
I pushed into the room. Damien was propped up in bed, looking pale and confused. When he saw , panic flooded his face.
"Aria." His voice was rough. "I swear I didn’t—I don’t rember—she said there was a contract ergency and then" He stopped, eyes wild. "The hotel, was I at a hotel? With Sophia?"
"Yes." I moved to his bedside.
"Did I—did we—" His voice cracked. "I don’t rember anything after having a drink with her. Oh God, Aria, please tell I didn’t"
"You didn’t." I caught his hand. "Damien, you were drugged. Sophia drugged you and staged photos to make it look like you cheated."
He stared at , processing. "Drugged?"
"Rohypnol. You’ve been unconscious for over an hour." I squeezed his hand. "But you’re safe now and I’m pressing charges."
"You" He looked at our joined hands, then at my face. "You believe ? Just like that?"
"Just like that." I sat on the edge of his bed. "Because I know you now, Damien. I know you wouldn’t do this. Not after everything we’ve been through."
"But the photos"
"Are evidence of assault, not infidelity." My voice was firm. "Everyone will know the truth soon enough."
"Aria." His voice broke. "I’m so sorry, I should have been more careful, should have seen it coming"
"Stop." I touched his face gently. "This isn’t your fault. Sophia drugged you. Vivian probably helped plan it, they wanted to destroy us, and they failed. That’s all that matters."
"Why?" He looked at with wandering eyes. "Why do you believe so easily? Last ti"
"Last ti I didn’t know you," I said softly. "Last ti, there was no trust between us. No foundation but now?" I smiled slightly. "Now I’ve seen who you really are. And that man would never betray his family, at least not willingly."
A tear slid down his cheek. "I don’t deserve you."
"Probably not." I wiped the tears away. "But you’re stuck with anyway."
He laughed wetly, then winced. "Ow. Laughing hurts."
"That’s the drugs." I stood. "Rest. I need to finish talking to the police, and then I’m calling Noah to let him know you’re okay."
"Noah." Damien’s face crumpled. "If he saw those photos—"
"He didn’t. And he won’t." My voice was cold. "I’m handling this. All of it, you just focus on getting better."
"Aria?" He caught my hand as I turned to leave.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." His voice was thick with emotion. "For believing . For staying. For" His voice broke. "For everything."
"Always." I squeezed his hand. "That’s what partners do, right? We believe each other. We stand together, no matter what."
"No matter what," he echoed, holding my hand like a lifeline.
And as I stood there, looking at this man who’d hurt so badly years ago but who I’d chosen to trust again, I realized sothing profound:
This—right here, right now—this was what real love looked like.
Not a fairy tale or fantasy. But choosing soone even when it’s hard. Trusting soone even when you’re scared. Standing by soone even when the world tells you to run.
And for the first ti in years, I wasn’t scared. I was certain.
********
The police station was cold and sterile, all fluorescent lights and uncomfortable chairs. I sat across from Officer Reyes again, this ti with my lawyer beside and a recorder between us.
"Let’s go over the tiline one more ti," Officer Reyes said. "You received the first anonymous text at what ti?"
"2:47 PM." I pulled up my phone. "Here, with a screenshot of the ssage and the photo of Damien’s car."
My lawyer, Margaret leaned forward. "Which my client imdiately recognized as suspicious given the location."
"We’re aware of the history," Officer Reyes said. "Ms. Clarke’s lawyer is claiming this was consensual, that Mr. Blackwood agreed to et her."
"Then explain the security footage." Margaret slid over a tablet showing hotel cara feeds. "This shows Ms. Clarke arriving at 2:15 PM. Mr. Blackwood arrives at 2:32 PM, clearly believing he’s there for business—he’s carrying his briefcase, checking his phone for what appears to be eting details."
The footage continued. Damien enters the hotel, heading toward the conference room area, then being redirected by Sophia toward the elevator. His body language confused, checking his phone again.
"Now watch this." Margaret fast-forwarded to Sophia and Damien entering the room. "He sits in the desk chair—standard for a business eting as she hands him a drink. Within four minutes, his posture changes. He’s disoriented. By minute seven, he’s unconscious."
Officer Reyes studied the footage carefully. "That’s fast for alcohol alone."
"Because it wasn’t alcohol alone." Margaret produced the toxicology report. "Rohypnol, 2 milligrams. More than enough to incapacitate an adult male of Mr. Blackwood’s size. And look here" She pointed at more footage. "After he’s unconscious, Ms. Clarke partially undresses him, poses him on the bed, changes into lingerie, and begins taking photos, this is clearly staged."
"Ms. Clarke claims they had consensual relations before he lost consciousness."
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