Chapter 3 SUSPICIOUS AND STRATEGIES

Ariella returned to the estate that afternoon with her heart pounding louder than the engine of Xander's luxury car. The silence between them on the drive home had been deafening. His earlier words echoed in her mind:

"Maybe you're not who you say you are."

Was it suspicion?

Or was he simply testing her?

She slipped into the estate quickly, refusing the help of the butler. She didn't want anyone to see how badly her hands were shaking.

Inside the safety of her borrowed bedroom, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Her mask was cracking.

And Xander was watching-closer than ever.

She stood in front of the mirror again. For a moment, she didn't see herself. She saw Sabrina-the confident, selfish girl who never had to explain her choices. Ariella had mimicked her voice, her expressions, her gait. But there was one thing she could never imitate: Sabrina's fearlessness.

Ariella's fingers grazed the edge of her vanity. She didn't have that luxury.

Because if she failed, she wouldn't just be exposed.

She would be destroyed.

Downstairs, the estate buzzed with quiet activity. Ariella emerged from her room only after composing herself completely. She was dressed in a simple cream blouse and slacks-understated elegance. She didn't want attention today.

But she got it anyway.

At the base of the stairs, a woman with pin-straight hair and sharp red lips was waiting. She leaned against the mahogany railing like she owned it.

"Darling," she drawled, "you look... pale. Trouble in paradise already?"

Ariella paused. "I'm sorry-have we met?"

The woman gave a slow, mocking smile. "I suppose it's true what they say. You have changed. I'm Clarissa. Xander's ex."

Ah.

So this was the infamous socialite who'd once clung to Xander's arm like designer perfume. Ariella offered a cool nod.

"Nice to meet you."

Clarissa's smile twisted. "Is it? You were always quiet, but now? You act like you're better than the rest of us."

"I don't act," Ariella said calmly. "I just prefer not to play games I don't respect."

Clarissa's eyes flashed.

Before she could reply, a voice cut through the tension.

"That's enough."

Xander stepped into view, his expression unreadable. He wasn't looking at Clarissa. His eyes were locked on Ariella.

"Clarissa, this isn't your home."

Clarissa scoffed. "It was-before you dumped me for a family contract."

Xander didn't flinch. "You weren't dumped. You were tolerated-until you weren't."

Clarissa's mouth dropped slightly, but she caught herself. With a venomous glare toward Ariella, she turned and stalked out of the foyer.

Ariella stood frozen.

Xander didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, without looking at her, he said, "You handled that well."

She blinked. "You were watching?"

"I always watch," he said simply. "Especially when someone tries to provoke my fiancée."

His voice was laced with something unexpected-approval?

Before she could process it, he turned and walked toward his study. "Follow me."

Inside the study, the walls were lined with books and confidential documents. Xander motioned for her to sit.

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for," he said, sitting across from her. "You didn't flinch when she mentioned our past. You didn't show weakness."

Ariella kept her expression neutral. "I don't consider exes a threat."

He tilted his head, amused. "And what do you consider me?"

Ariella hesitated. She couldn't say what she really thought-that he was a threat wrapped in silk and steel.

So she said, "A man who doesn't trust easily."

Xander leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"I didn't ask for this marriage," he said. "But if we're going to do this, I need a partner. Not just someone who plays pretend for the cameras."

She blinked. "A partner?"

"You'll be invited to every gala, every business meeting. The media already believes we're in love. We need to start acting like it."

Her pulse quickened. "Are you saying we fake... affection?"

"I'm saying we sell the illusion. But I also need someone who doesn't embarrass the Delacroix name."

Ariella nodded slowly. "I can handle that."

He studied her again, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"You're not the same girl I met months ago," he said quietly.

She smiled faintly. "People change."

"Or they reveal who they really are."

That night, Ariella sat alone in the garden, moonlight brushing over her skin like a secret. She replayed every moment of the day-Clarissa's venom, Xander's probing questions, his unexpected defense of her.

He didn't trust her.

But he didn't reject her either.

And that gave her a sliver of hope.

Her phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number:

"You're not safe there. They'll find out soon. Get out while you can."

Ariella's blood turned cold.

She scanned the dark hedges. Who sent that?

Her fingers shook as she typed: "Who is this?"

No reply.

She stared at the screen, heart racing. She couldn't afford fear. Not now.

She had made a decision the day she stepped into this mansion. She wasn't going to survive by hiding.

If they were going to play a game, then so would she.

She looked up at the dark sky, her mind sharpening like a blade.

They wanted Sabrina? Fine.

But they would never see Ariella coming.