Chapter 3 The First Trap

Aria sat in the backseat of her car as her driver pulled away from the gala.

She didn't speak nor did she smile.

She just stared out the window as the city lights flashed by.

Damien had fallen right into the trap, and it was only just the beginning.

She took out her phone and opened the gallery.

There it was.

A photo from earlier tonight: Damien standing by the bar, staring at her like a man who'd seen his past come back to life.

She had taken it quietly from a distance.

Evidence, she thought. Proof that he's already watching me again.

Aria wasn't back in his life to beg him or cry.

She was here to make him fall in love again.

Deeply, Madly and Blindly.

And then?

She'd crush him.

Just like he crushed her.

The next morning, Aria stepped into her office building wearing a white suit. Looking clean, powerful and unbothered.

Her assistant, Mia, rushed over.

"Miss Collins," she whispered, "there's a man waiting in your office. He said his name is Damien Kingsley."

Aria didn't even blink.

"Make him wait ten minutes."

"But-"

"I said ten," Aria replied and walked away slowly.

Let him feel what she felt.

Let him wait.

Ten minutes later, she opened the office door.

Damien stood by the window, looking out at the city skyline. He turned as she walked in, and for a second, he looked nervous.

She loved that.

"You didn't have to come here," she said, sitting behind her desk.

"I didn't want to wait," he said. "I couldn't sleep last night."

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Why? Too many memories?"

Damien didn't smile. He stepped closer.

"I was an idiot, Aria. I hurt you. I know that. I didn't come here to make excuses for myself. I came to ask... can we start over?"

She blinked slowly.

"You think it's that easy?"

"No," he said quickly. "But I want to try. I'm not the same man anymore."

Aria leaned back in her chair.

"I'm not the same woman either."

He looked at her carefully.

"I can see that."

There was a long silence.

Finally, Aria stood up and walked toward him.

"Fine," she said. "We can... talk. Dinner. Tomorrow night. Eight o'clock."

His eyes lit up a little too quickly.

"Really?"

"Yes," she said, her voice soft.

But her smile was sharp.

"Just don't be late."

That night, Aria looked at herself in the mirror again.

She wore a red dress this time. The same color as the one she wore the day he broke her heart.

A color he once said made her look like "sin and heaven."

Let him remember.

Let him burn.

She stared at her reflection and whispered to herself:

"Make him fall.

Make him beg.

Make him suffer."

And with that, she walked out the door.