Chapter 5 Fifth chapter

"Are all new therapists like this?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

"I'm not new," Damon replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "But I'm not exactly a veteran either. I'm just too good."

Ariel gave him a look, half-impressed, half-annoyed. "Well, I can see you're good," she admitted, folding her arms. "But that doesn't mean I feel like spilling my guts even if you did guess right."

Now it was Damon's turn to be amused.

"Actually, I don't even need therapy," she continued, rolling her eyes. "My parents are just overreacting. But I can't leave the house, so... that's where you come in, Mr. Therapist."

Damon studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint smirk, he said, "The name's Damon. And I'm not interested in helping you."

"Since you don't need therapy, I should be on my way," Damon said, rising from the chair with a cool finality in his voice.

But before he could take a step, Ariel reached out and caught his wrist. Her grip was firm, urgent. "I'll pay you three times what you and my parents agreed on," she said, her eyes locking onto his.

Damon paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his usually unreadable face. It looked like he was weighing a heavy decision. Then, with a resigned breath and a slow nod, he agreed.

Ariel rolled her eyes at him.

"Just tell my parents this place isn't convenient enough. Your office would be better more... equipped, you know, for certain things that could help me psychologically," she said, almost too casually.

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan on seducing me?"

Ariel blinked, taken aback. "Are you sure you're a therapist?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

He gave a lazy shrug. "Don't I look like one, dear? But since you clearly don't need my skills, this is me off duty." He gestured to himself, as if that explained everything. "So is that all I need to do?"

"That's just the beginning," Ariel replied with a smirk. "And who knows I might just seduce you if you do a good job convincing my parents."

Her smile was slow and unsettling, the kind that could rattle even the most innocent soul. But Damon didn't flinch. In fact, something in his expression hinted at amusement. Deep down, he found her fascinating.

Lost in he's thoughts while observing Ariel, Damon couldn't help but be intrigued by her. There was something about her presence subtle yet magnetic that captured his attention. The curiosity simmering within him finally propelled him to his feet. He needed to speak with her parents.

He found them waiting anxiously just outside the room.

"Mr. Damon," Katherine said quickly, her voice laced with concern. "Is her condition worsening that you're coming out so soon?"

Her eyes searched his face desperately for answers, and beside her, her husband Peterson stood stiffly, his hands clenched, mirroring the same worry.

Damon gave a measured nod. "As a matter of fact, yes. The environment here isn't ideal for what she needs right now. It's interfering with the process. I suggest you bring her to my office. It's far more conducive, and I have all the equipment required there. Unfortunately, I can't move everything here."

Without hesitation, Peterson stepped forward. "Anything for our daughter," he said firmly, and Katherine nodded, her grip tightening on her husband's arm as they prepared themselves for what lay ahead.

The couple stood just outside the room, hands intertwined, watching as Damon stepped back inside where their daughter sat, unmoving. Her stillness was unnatural, unsettling. Their hearts ached with helpless sorrow as they lingered in the hallway.

"I've taken care of it. Your parents readily agreed," Damon said, his voice steady as he approached Ariel. He positioned himself in front of her, subtly blocking her parents' line of sight.

A slow smile crept across Ariel's face beautiful, but wrong. There was no joy in it. Only something cold, something twisted just beneath the surface.

"Mr. Therapist," she said, her voice a quiet blade.

Damon lifted a hand gently. "Damon. My name's Damon."

She didn't blink. "Doesn't matter," she replied flatly.

Her eyes didn't move from his. "You should prepare a secret way out," she said. "There's going to be a lot of sneaking out from these therapy sessions and you're coming with me."

She remained seated, a statue of defiance, her voice the only movement in the room. Damon felt a flicker of unease not fear, but something close. She was planning something, and he was already caught in it.

Damon knew he couldn't back out of whatever Ariel was planning not that he had any real intention of doing so. Curiosity had already taken root in him, a dark and steady pull toward the storm brewing in her. He saw it clearly that deep, consuming hatred in her eyes and he needed to understand it. What had she gone through to carry such fury so tightly within her?

As he pondered, something flickered behind his own gaze. A flash of something equally bitter,hatred. Ariel noticed the shift, though she didn't recognize it for what it was. To her, it was just an unsettling moment, a cold ripple in the atmosphere that made her certain this therapist was unlike the others. But she wasn't concerned about him now. Her thoughts were heavy, filled with the weight of vengeance.

She wanted retribution not from the surface, but from the deepest roots. In her mind, none of this should have happened. The pain, the betrayal, the scars it had all been forced upon her. And if she was going to cleanse herself of it, she had to start from the beginning. She had to obliterate the source.

Damon snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat sharply, drawing Ariel's attention.

"Well, I'll be leaving now. See you at our next appointment," he said, his voice steady but distant.

Ariel gave a small nod, her eyes lingering on him as he walked away. She was already looking forward to their next meeting.

Victor... Victor, she thought silently, her expression hardening. Just you wait. I'm preparing something big for you.