Chapter 3 A Stranger in the Dark

Aria POV

My head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton and regret and then shaken it violently.

I groaned softly and turned my face into something cool and smooth. Definitely not my pillow. My eyes open slowly and the first thing I saw was a ceiling that was too high and too clean to belong to my apartment.

I froze.

The room came into focus piece by piece. Thick curtains drawn halfway. Neutral colors. Expensive furniture that looked untouched. The air smelled faintly of clean linen and something masculine but distant. Like it had been here earlier and already left.

Okay. Breathe.

I pushed myself up, instantly regretting it when my skull throbbed in protest.

"Never again," I muttered, pressing my fingers to my temples.

I scanned the room again. My dress was still on. My shoes were placed neatly near the couch. My purse sat on the table beside a bottle of water and two small tablets.

That helped. A lot.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood slowly, testing myself. Dizzy but upright. I thinking i'm still among the living.

Good signs.

Memory kept coming in gradually. The bar. The alcohol. The man. Luca.

Heat rose to my face.

I remembered telling him he was unfairly handsome. Remembered his calm voice. The way he looked at me like he was amused but not mocking. Like he saw a thousand drunk women a year and still found something about me interesting.

God. I really needed to stop drinking when emotionally unstable.

I grabbed my purse and checked my phone. No missed calls from Ethan. Of course not. He was probably still busy apologizing with his body to Jasmin.

The thought hurt but not as sharply as it had last night. It sat in my chest like a bruise instead of an open wound.

Progress.

I noticed a small card tucked under the water bottle.

You were safe here. Drink the water. Leave whenever you want.

No name. No number.

I stared at it for a long moment. There was no threat in it. No implication. Just information.

"Strange man," I murmured.

And considerate. Which somehow made it stranger.

I downed the water in slow gulps, swallowed the tablets, then grabbed my shoes. I did not linger. Whatever this place was, it was not mine. I had no interest in waking up to awkward explanations or questions I did not feel like answering.

I slipped out quietly, avoiding eye contact with staff who already seemed to know not to look too closely.

Outside, the morning air was crisp and bright, slicing through the haze in my head. I flagged down a car and gave the driver my address.

Home.

Not the apartment. My real home.

The mansion gates opened as I approached, familiar iron curves welcoming me back like nothing had gone wrong in the world. The house sat proudly behind them, white stone glowing in the sunlight, perfectly manicured gardens framing it like a painting.

I exhaled for the first time since last night.

Inside, the house was alive with quiet weekend sounds. Footsteps. Soft voices. The faint clink of dishes.

A maid spotted me immediately.

"Miss Aria," she said warmly. "You are back early."

"Morning," I replied, forcing a smile. "Is my dad up"

She nodded. "In the breakfast room. He asked not to be disturbed but I will let him know you are here."

"No need," I said quickly. "I will go to him."

She studied my face with gentle curiosity but said nothing. The staff here never did. They knew better.

My father sat at the table with a tablet in one hand and coffee in the other, glasses perched low on his nose. He looked up when I entered, his expression shifting instantly.

"Aria," he said. "You look terrible."

"Good morning to you too," I replied, dropping into the chair across from him.

He set the tablet down. "Where did you sleep"

"Hotel."

One eyebrow lifted. "Which one"

I shrugged. "One of the nice ones."

He snorted. "That narrows it down to half the city."

I poured myself coffee and added sugar until it looked acceptable. "I ran into some drama."

His gaze sharpened slightly. "Explain."

"Ethan cheated."

That got his full attention.

"With my friend," I added.

He leaned back slowly. "Which friend"

"Jasmin."

The silence that followed was heavy but controlled. My father did not explode. He never did. He simply absorbed information and filed it away under future actions.

"I see," he said finally. "And you walked away"

"Yes."

"Good."

That was it. No lecture. No threats spoken out loud. Just approval.

I relaxed into my chair. "I will need a few days to clean my apartment. She was squatting there."

His mouth twitched. "She will not be there when you return."

I smiled faintly. "I figured."

He studied me again, more closely this time. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I said honestly. "Nothing happened."

He nodded. "Eat something. You look like you might pass out."

"I am not that dramatic."

"You were when you were five," he replied dryly. "You cried because your toast was cut wrong."

"That was a traumatic experience," I said. "I have not recovered."

A ghost of a smile appeared. Then it faded.

"Your job starts next week," he said.

I groaned. "Do not remind me."

"You chose it."

"I chose the work," I corrected. "Not the people."

He chuckled. "You were never good with office politics."

"I like machines," I said. "Machines make sense. People pretend to."

"You could work here."

I shook my head. "No. I need my own thing."

He accepted that easily. He always had.

After breakfast, I retreated to my old room. Nothing had changed. Same furniture. Same faint scent of lavender. Same feeling of being protected without being caged.

I showered, letting the hot water chase away the last of the hangover. As I dressed, my phone buzzed with a message from HR.

Reminder that your onboarding documents are still incomplete. Please submit before Monday.

I stared at it, irritation bubbling up.

I typed back.

They were submitted last Thursday. Check your system.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

We will review and get back to you.

I rolled my eyes.

This was exactly why I hated corporate environments. Too many smiles. Too many passive aggressive emails. Too many people who smiled to your face and complained behind your back because you refused to pretend.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and flopped down beside it.

My mind drifted back to the hotel. To Luca. To the way he had looked at me without expectation. Without pressure.

I did not even know if I would ever see him again.

And strangely, that felt fine.

Some moments were not meant to last. They existed to remind you that the world was bigger than your heartbreak.

I closed my eyes.

Next week would come soon enough.

For now, I was home.