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Aria didn't say anything as she followed Jace up the sweeping staircase, her boots making the faintest sound against polished stone. The Callahan estate echoed with its own kind of silence-grand, hollow, sterile. Not the kind you could relax into. The kind that watched you.
Killian's voice still rang in her ears. Not loud. Just sharp. Sharp enough to stick.
"Is that what they told you?"
What the hell did that mean?
She didn't ask Jace. He was already halfway up the stairs, pretending like nothing had happened, like his older brother hadn't just stared at her like she was a loose thread someone forgot to cut.
He pushed open a tall set of double doors and stepped aside, letting her walk into the guest bedroom.
It was ridiculous.
Vaulted ceilings. A wall of glass that looked out over the treetops and mountain ridges. A four-poster bed she could've done laps on. The whole room smelled faintly like expensive linen and nothing else. No life. No warmth.
"This okay?" Jace asked.
"It's fine," Aria said, stepping over the threshold like the floor might bite her. "Kind of a lot for a guest room."
"Well," he said, flopping onto the chaise near the window, "everything in this house is 'a lot.' That's sort of the Callahan brand."
Aria put her bag down on the bench at the foot of the bed. She didn't sit. She didn't unpack.
She needed a second to breathe.
But Jace didn't notice.
He stretched his arms behind his head and sighed like this was just another stop on a long road trip. "God, I forgot how much I hate this place."
Aria turned toward him. "Then why did you come?"
His smile was too quick. "Same reason as always."
"Blair."
He didn't flinch. "You think she'll be here?"
Aria blinked. "It's her engagement weekend."
"Technically it's her fiancé's event," he said. "And my mom. She probably guilted Blair into showing up. You know she always had a soft spot for that drama."
Aria didn't answer. She couldn't think of anything that didn't sound bitter or stupid.
Instead, she walked to the window and looked out at the trees. The mountains were close enough to feel like they might lean in if you breathed too hard.
She pressed a hand to the glass.
"You still haven't told me what you're planning," she said.
Jace sat up straighter. "Planning?"
"Don't play dumb," she said, still facing the window. "You brought me here. To your family's house. The weekend of Blair Donovan's engagement party. I know you. You're not here to wish her happiness."
He was quiet.
She turned.
And he was watching her like he wasn't sure whether to smile or flinch.
"I just..." He shrugged. "I thought maybe if she saw me again, in person, she'd remember."
"Remember what?"
"What we had."
Aria's stomach dropped.
"We were a mess, yeah," Jace said. "But we were real. It meant something. I think it still does. And if she sees me, like really sees me-"
"She's getting married," Aria said.
His eyes lit up like she'd confirmed his point. "Exactly. It's a reaction. It's a move. A power play. That's what she does."
"You're not a chess piece," Aria said, even though she wasn't sure that was true. Not with Blair.
"And yet," Jace said, "she never moved on from me. Not really."
Aria folded her arms, cold despite the warmth of the room. "So you want her back."
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
She dropped her gaze. "And I'm here because..."
"I need backup," he said. "Moral support. You've always been my steady hand."
Her lips twisted. "Steady hand. Great."
Jace stood and walked toward her. "I mean it. I wouldn't even be doing this if you weren't here. You're the one person I can trust."
Aria looked up at him.
She wished, in that moment, that she didn't love him.
That she hadn't spent ten years waiting for something he'd never give her.
That she wasn't stupid enough to say what she said next.
"What do you need me to do?"
He exhaled, relieved. "Nothing huge. Just... be around. Let her see we're close. Maybe she gets jealous. Maybe it shakes her up. Maybe she remembers how much she hated not having me."
"So you want me to make her think you've moved on."
"I want you to help me get her attention."
"Right," Aria said, her voice flat. "Got it."
Jace didn't catch the tone.
Or maybe he did. But ignored it.
He smiled again and wrapped her in a hug. She froze for half a second, then let him.
His arms were warm. Familiar. They used to feel like home.
Now they felt like a trick she kept falling for.
"You're the best," he murmured into her hair.
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Later, when the house was quiet again, Aria wandered downstairs alone.
She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Air, maybe. Distance. A reason not to scream into a pillow.
The hallways were dim, lit by low sconces and the occasional flicker of firelight from rooms she didn't want to step into. Everything in the Callahan estate was either too cold or too controlled.
She passed the grand staircase, her fingers trailing the edge of the iron banister.
And that's when she saw him.
Killian.
Standing in the sitting room, lit only by firelight and the faint blue of his phone screen.
He didn't look surprised to see her.
She tried to walk past without speaking, but his voice caught her.
"Helping him win her back," he said. "That's a new low."
Aria stopped.
She turned.
"I didn't realize you were listening."
Killian slipped his phone into his pocket, eyes never leaving her face. "I wasn't. Jace is just...predictable."
She swallowed. "He's your brother."
"And you're the woman who's going to get eaten alive."
Her jaw tightened. "I can handle myself."
"Sure," Killian said. He took a slow step forward. "But can you handle what comes after?"
She didn't answer.
He didn't smile.
Just looked at her one more second too long.
Then he turned and disappeared down the hallway.
Leaving Aria alone.
With the first flicker of a realization she didn't want:
She wasn't the one playing the game.
She was the one being played.