Shattered Illusions

Aria's POV

The drive back to Kieran's hotel was silent. My feet ached in the expensive heels, my face hurt from maintaining a perfect smile for three hours, and my heart felt like someone had put it through a shredder.

But my father will be free tomorrow. That's what mattered.

"You did well tonight," Kieran said as the car pulled up to the Grandeur Hotel's private entrance. "Better than I expected, honestly."

"Thanks, I think." I stared out the window at the glittering building. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why do you really hate Ethan? It can't just be about Vivienne, you barely mentioned her all night."

Kieran was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "Let's just say Ethan Ross and I have history that predates his engagement to my daughter. And leave it at that."

We finally got to his penthouse and the car stopped. The driver opened my door, and Kieran offered his hand to help me out. His touch was warm, steady, and I hated how much I had started to depend on it in just one evening.

"Get some rest," he said as we entered the lobby. "Tomorrow we have breakfast with the Blackstone Chronicle. They want to interview us about our 'surprising new relationship.'"

I stopped walking. "You scheduled an interview?"

"I scheduled an opportunity." His smile was sharp. "By tomorrow afternoon, everyone in three packs will know that you've moved on. Spectacularly."

"And my father—"

"Will be released at nine a.m. I've already spoken to his lawyer." Kieran checked his watch. "Which gives you approximately eight hours to decide if you can actually go through with this. Because once that interview publishes, there's no going back."

The elevator arrived. I stepped inside, my mind racing. "What if I can't? What if I'm not good enough at pretending?"

Kieran followed me in, his expression thoughtful. "Then you'll fail, your father will go back to jail, and Ethan will marry my daughter while you watch from the sidelines. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not—"

"Then stop doubting yourself." The elevator doors closed. "You were magnificent tonight. You made grown men stumble over their words. You made Ethan Ross look like a fool at his own engagement party. You're far stronger than you think, Aria Mercer."

The elevator climbed smoothly. I watched the numbers tick upward, my reflection ghostly in the polished doors. "I slapped my best friend tonight."

"I noticed."

"She called me a prostitute. Implied I was selling myself to you." My voice cracked. "Maybe she's right."

Kieran moved closer, and suddenly the elevator felt very small. "Look at me."

I did.

"You're not selling yourself. You're making a strategic choice to save your family and reclaim your dignity. There's a difference." His hand lifted, hovering near my face but not quite touching. "And for the record, if I wanted to buy companionship, I could do so easily. What I want from you is partnership."

The elevator dinged, and we were on his floor.

"Breakfast is at eight. I'll have something appropriate sent to your room." He moved toward the doors. "And Aria? Your friend was wrong. But even if she wasn't, you're allowed to make choices that other people don't understand. Especially when those choices save the people you love."

The doors closed before I could respond.

I made it to my room quickly, kicked off the torturous heels, and collapsed onto the bed still wearing the red dress. My phone had been buzzing all night, I had ignored it during the party, but now I couldn't avoid it anymore.

Seventeen missed calls from Sage. Twelve from my mother. Five from numbers I didn't recognize. And one text from an unknown number that made me pause.

“Enjoying your new sugar daddy? Hope he's worth destroying your father's reputation. - E”

Ethan. He had gotten a new number just to message me.

My hands shook as I typed back. “My father's reputation was destroyed by whoever framed him. But I'm going to find out who. And when I do, I hope it was worth it.”

His response came immediately. “You think you're so smart now. Walking into MY party with HIM. You embarrassed yourself, Aria. Everyone was laughing at you.”

“Then why are you texting me at midnight? If I'm so embarrassing, why do you care?”

The three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally: “I don't. Just wanted you to know that this little game you're playing? It won't work. Vivienne and I are getting married. You and Kieran are a joke. Everyone knows it.”

I stared at the message, fury and hurt warring in my chest. Then I did something impulsive. I took a selfie—still in the red dress, hair perfectly styled, looking every inch like a woman who had won and sent it to him.

“If we're such a joke, stop watching. Delete my number, Ethan. Move on with your perfect life. Because I already have.”

I blocked him before he could respond.

The petty satisfaction lasted about thirty seconds before the guilt set in. What was I doing? Playing games with my ex while plotting revenge with his future father-in-law? This wasn't me. This wasn't who I wanted to be.

My phone rang—my mother.

"Mom—"

"Aria Dawn Mercer, what in the goddess's name is going on?" Her voice was strained, exhausted. "I've had fifteen people call me tonight asking about you and Kieran Thornhart. Please tell me those photos aren't real."

"What photos?"

"Check the Blackstone social media page. You're everywhere."

I pulled up the page with shaking hands. Sure enough, there we were—Kieran and I entering the party, dancing, standing close together at the bar. The comments were brutal.

“Is this his midlife crisis?”

“Poor thing, rebounding with her ex's father-in-law. Desperate much”

“She's actually really pretty though?”

“Pretty won't make up for being Ethan's sloppy seconds.”

I closed the app before I could read more.

"Mom, I can explain—"

"I don't want explanations. I want to know if this man is really posting your father's bail."

I froze. "How did you know about that?"

"His lawyer called an hour ago. Said the bail has been paid in full and your father will be released in the morning." Her voice broke. "Aria, what did you do? What did you promise him?"

"Nothing like what you're thinking." I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. "Kieran and I have an arrangement. It's complicated, but it's not… we're not…"

"Sleeping together?"

"No! Jeez, Mom, no. We just met tonight."

The lie came easier than it should have. We had met in the bar, yes, but I'd known who he was for all of maybe four hours. It felt simultaneously like forever and no time at all.

"Then why is he paying five million dollars for a stranger's bail?"

"Because he hates Ethan as much as I do." The truth slipped out before I could stop it. "And because he's helping me make Ethan regret what he did."

Silence. Then, quietly: "Revenge is a poison, baby. It destroys the person seeking it more than the target."

"Maybe I don't care anymore." Tears burned my eyes. "Maybe I'm tired of being good and obedient and perfect. Where did it get me? Rejected by my fated mate. Watching my family fall apart. Being pitied by everyone who knows me."

"So you would rather be feared?"

"I had rather be strong."

Mom sighed. "Strength and revenge aren't the same thing, Aria. But I know you won't hear that right now. Just be careful. Men like Kieran Thornhart don't do anything without expecting payment and sometimes the price isn't clear until it's too late."

We hung up shortly after. I tried to sleep but my mind wouldn't quiet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ethan's face when he spotted me. The shock, the anger, the—

Was it jealousy? Had I seen jealousy in his eyes?

No. I was seeing what I wanted to see. Ethan didn't want me. He had made that abundantly clear.

At three a.m., I gave up on sleep and went to the window. The city spread out below, lights twinkling like fallen stars. Somewhere out there, Ethan was probably asleep next to Vivienne, content in his choices. Somewhere, my father was in a cell, counting down the hours until freedom.

And somewhere in this very building, Kieran Thornhart was awake, planning our next move in this elaborate game.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number—not Ethan this time.

“Still awake? - K”

I shouldn't have been surprised he had my number. Kieran seemed to have everything.

“Can't sleep. Tomorrow feels too big.”

“Come to my room. We should talk.”

Every rational part of my brain screamed no. Going to a man's room at three a.m. was asking for trouble, arrangement or not.

But I was already pulling on jeans and a sweater, slipping into flats, already heading for the elevator.