Between Silence and storm

Chapter 1

Ariana

In the dead of night, a shadow drifted silently down the dimly lit hallway. Ariana, dressed in formal evening attire, moved unsteadily, her head heavy and foggy.

Heat... So much heat...

It spread through her body like a wildfire, threatening to consume her from the inside out. Something was wrong-terribly wrong.

Flashes of the past hour played in her mind.

After attending her grandfather's grand 70th birthday celebration, her stepmother, Cynthia, had stopped her with a saccharine voice.

"Ariana, there's something I need to discuss with you."

Ariana's response was cold, her eyes filled with disdain. "There's nothing for us to talk about. The moment you drove my mother to her death, we ceased to have anything but hatred between us."

Cynthia's expression stiffened, but she masked her irritation with a pitiful sigh. "Your father is in trouble, and he needs your help."

Ariana scoffed, a sense of dread creeping into her gut. "And what exactly can I do?"

Cynthia's voice softened, almost pleading. "Ariana, your father offended a powerful man. The only way out is for you to ask your grandfather for help. No matter what's happened, you're still a member of the Falter family. He won't refuse you."

Ariana found it laughable.

Ask her grandfather?

The same grandfather who had severed all ties with her father years ago?

Who had watched in disgust as Cynthia seduced her father while her mother was pregnant, forcing her into a humiliating divorce?

Who had never forgiven her father for letting her mother walk out into a storm, only to die in a tragic accident?

And now, Cynthia had the audacity to ask for help?

Ariana's lips curled into a cold smirk. "I wouldn't beg him for anything. My father is nothing but a selfish coward, and whatever happens to him-he deserves it."

With that, she turned to leave.

But just as she did, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Ariana, if you refuse to help, don't blame me for what happens next."

Before Ariana could react, an unusual fragrance filled the air. A sweet, cloying scent.

Instinctively, she held her breath. But it was too late-she had already inhaled too much.

Her limbs grew weak, her vision blurred.

Damn it.

She barely registered the figure grabbing her arm, attempting to drag her away.

Summoning the last of her strength, Ariana kicked her attacker hard in the stomach and broke free.

She stumbled forward, panic flooding her veins as she forced herself to keep moving.

She had always known Cynthia was ruthless, but she had underestimated just how far she would go.

As the world around her began to spin, Ariana pressed herself against the hallway wall, trying to stay upright.

Footsteps. Voices.

"Hurry up and find her! If she escapes, we're finished!"

Cynthia.

Ariana's breath hitched.

Desperation clawed at her as she reached for the nearest door, her fingers trembling.

Creak.

To her surprise, it wasn't locked.

With no other choice, she slipped inside and locked it behind her.

The room was pitch-black.

She had no idea where she was.

Her foot caught on something, and before she could steady herself, she tumbled forward.

"Ah-"

She landed on something soft.

No, someone.

A cool, firm surface met her burning cheek, sending a wave of relief through her feverish body.

It felt so good.

Her hands moved instinctively, touching the solid warmth beneath her.

It was a man.

Her rational mind screamed at her to move away, but the overwhelming heat consuming her body made her crave the cold touch.

Unconsciously, she clung to him, her arms and legs wrapping around him as if he were the only thing anchoring her.

On the bed, Dwayne stirred.

The alcohol in his system had kept him in a deep slumber, but the sudden weight pressing against him made his brows furrow.

A soft, delicate body curled against his, rubbing against him in a way that sent a jolt of awareness through his fogged mind.

His voice was hoarse, laced with irritation. "Get off."

Ariana whimpered, burying her face against his chest, her fingers clutching at him desperately.

Dwayne attempted to push her away, but his intoxicated body lacked its usual strength.

She pressed closer.

Then, a soft, feather-light kiss landed against his throat.

His entire body tensed.

A slow, dangerous fire flickered to life within him.

His eyes snapped open, dark and predatory in the shadows.

In the darkness, he looked like a wolf that had just been provoked, his sharp gaze glowing with an unspoken warning.

With a sudden movement, he flipped them over, pinning the girl beneath him.

His voice was low, dangerous.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Pain...

Ariana's tightly shut eyes trembled as she struggled against an overwhelming, searing heat. Her body felt weak, heavy. A suffocating warmth surrounded her, making it impossible to think.

She fought against it, forcing her lashes apart.

The first thing she saw was a face-sharp, striking, impossibly handsome. A strong, well-defined jawline. The high bridge of his nose. Lips that were perfectly sculpted yet dangerously thin. Two thick brows, angled like sharp blades over deep-set, intense eyes.

For a fleeting moment, Ariana forgot to breathe.

She simply stared, her fogged mind unable to process what she was seeing.

Then, reality came crashing back.

Her muddled brain pieced together the fragments of last night. The setup. Her desperate escape. The room she stumbled into...

And now-this.

A jolt of panic surged through her veins.

This man is... Dwayne!

Her body stiffened. Why was he in bed with her? Or worse... why was she in bed with him?

With trembling fingers, Ariana lifted the quilt just enough to peek underneath. The sight of two disheveled bodies sent a wave of cold dread through her.

She yanked the covers back up, her face draining of all color.

What should I do? What should I do now?

Her heart pounded like a drum against her ribs. No, they weren't related by blood, but Dwayne was still considered her uncle. And now, after... after this-how was she supposed to face him?

Before she could come up with an answer, the man beside her shifted.

A low, sleepy hum escaped his lips.

Ariana's breath hitched in terror. Her first instinct? Run!

But before she could make a move, a strong, tanned arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back against his body.

Ariana nearly yelped.

His warmth pressed into her back, his chest firm, solid, burning hot against her feverish skin. Her entire body turned crimson, her pulse frantic.

She struggled, attempting to pry his arm away, but it was like trying to move a steel bar.

Damn it, he's too strong!

Beads of sweat rolled down her temples as she waited-praying he would drift back to sleep.

After a long, agonizing pause, his grip loosened ever so slightly. Seizing the chance, Ariana mustered all her strength and wriggled free. She scrambled off the bed, hastily grabbing the clothes scattered on the floor.

Her hands shook as she dressed, her movements clumsy.

When she pulled on her trousers too forcefully, she lost her balance.

Thud!

Her mouth smacked straight into something-something rock hard.

Ow!

Pain shot through her lips. She winced, staggering back-only to realize what she had bumped into.

Dwayne's chest.

A broad, muscular chest.

Heat burned up her neck as she snapped her gaze upward-only to lock eyes with him.

A pair of cold, razor-sharp eyes.

Dark. Piercing. Unreadable.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

Ariana's mind went blank. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud.

"You... you... you got it all wrong!" she blurted, voice trembling.

Dwayne's expression didn't change. He merely stared down at her, unreadable, assessing. Then, his deep, chilling voice broke the silence.

"Put your clothes on."

Ariana nodded frantically, scrambling to her feet. She hurried to finish dressing, her fingers fumbling with every button.

Dwayne lifted the quilt and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Then he saw it.

The stain on the sheets.

His jaw tightened.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on, his movements slow, deliberate.

"Tell me what really happened," he ordered.

Ariana clutched the wrinkled hem of her clothes, her pulse erratic. "I... I was drugged last night. I had no choice but to escape here. I swear, I didn't mean to-"

She hesitated, then stammered out, "Uncle..."

The air around them froze.

Dwayne's face darkened instantly. "Don't call me that."

His voice was cold, clipped-like a blade slicing through her chest.

Ariana's throat tightened.

Her mother had been an adopted daughter of the Rickshaws. Though not related by blood, the Rickshaws had treated her as one of their own. For years, their families had been close.

Until her mother's death.

After the accident, the Rickshaws had cut all ties with her father. They had even tried to take Ariana away, seeking legal custody to keep her from her father.

Back then, she had a choice-side with her grandfather or stay with the man who had betrayed her mother.

She chose her father.

And in doing so, she had been abandoned by the Rickshaws.

Deep down, she had expected them to resent her. But she never thought Dwayne would refuse to even let her call him Uncle.

A sharp pain twisted in her chest. She lowered her gaze, her voice hoarse.

"Mr. Rickshaw, I apologize," she said quietly. "I was drugged. That's how I ended up here."

Her fists clenched at her sides.

"As for what happened last night... just forget it ever happened. Consider it like-like getting bitten by a dog. Don't hold it against me."

She forced a bitter laugh. "I promise, nobody will know. Just you, me, heaven, and earth."

Dwayne remained silent.

Ariana took his silence as acceptance.

She paused briefly, then turned on her heel, ready to leave.

But before she could take a single step-

"Did I," Dwayne's voice cut through the air, low and dangerous, "give you permission to leave.

Ariana's steps faltered. Her eyes, already rimmed with red, flickered with hesitation as she looked back at Dwayne.

"Mr. Rickshaw, is there anything else?"

She had already apologized. Would he still refuse to let this go?

A sudden wave of grievance welled up inside her. She hadn't done this on purpose. If she had known it was him in that room last night, she would never have entered-even if it meant dying outside.

And yet, she had lost something precious.

Dwayne, being older, might not have even lost anything at all. What if... what if last night had been his first time too? No one would ever question him. But her? She was the one left with the consequences.

Ariana bit her lip, frustration flickering in her eyes.

Did he expect her to kneel and beg for forgiveness?

Dwayne's sharp gaze darkened. He wasn't blind-he saw the dissatisfaction written all over her face. His voice, low and unreadable, broke the silence.

"Who set you up?"

The name Cynthia hovered on her tongue, but she swallowed it back down.

The Rickshaws had cut ties with hers years ago. She had no right to drag them into this.

Ariana shook her head. "I don't know."

Dwayne's expression turned ice-cold in an instant.

"You don't even know who plotted against you? You really don't hold a candle to your mother."

Her fists clenched at her sides.

A lump of cotton seemed lodged in her throat, making it impossible to speak.

Dwayne turned away dismissively.

"You can go."

Ariana swallowed hard, then turned on her heel and silently walked toward the door.

Just as she reached for the handle, his voice cut through the air again.

"Remember to take the medicine."

She froze.

A few seconds passed before realization dawned.

He was talking about the contraceptive pill.

Ariana's face flamed red.

"I don't need your reminder," she snapped. "I'll buy it myself."

She was only eighteen. She couldn't afford to get pregnant.

Without waiting for a response, she yanked open the door and left.

Dwayne's gaze lingered on the doorway for a beat before shifting away.

Click.

The door closed behind her.

His jaw tightened. With long strides, he made his way to the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the space.

He felt it again-the lingering burn on his back.

Dwayne turned slightly, catching his reflection in the mirror. Red, tangled scratches ran down his skin.

A flicker of last night's images flashed through his mind.

Heat crept up his throat.

His expression darkened as he cursed under his breath and turned the faucet to cold.

Hobbling slightly, Ariana finally made it home.

She shut the door, peeled off her clothes, and gasped.

Bruises. Everywhere.

Deep purple and green marks covered her waist, and even-God-there were bite marks.

A shiver ran down her spine.

"Dwayne... haven't you touched a woman in your past life? You beast!" she muttered under her breath.

Her hands trembled as she applied ointment to her skin, wincing at the sting.

When she finished, she washed her hands and reached for the contraceptive pill.

Before she could take it-

Knock, knock.

A sharp, impatient rapping on the door.

"Ariana, come out. I know you're in there!"

Cynthia's voice.

The false kindness was gone, stripped away to reveal her true, venomous nature.

Ariana's fingers tightened around the pill bottle before she silently placed it back in the drawer.

She stood, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

The moment she did, Cynthia stormed in, her expression twisted in fury.

"Where were you last night?" she snapped.

Ariana arched a brow, crossing her arms lazily. "Why? Missed me?"

Cynthia's jaw clenched.

She had spent weeks orchestrating this plan-arranging for Ariana to be drugged and thrown into the bed of a powerful businessman in exchange for saving her husband's failing business.

But somehow, Ariana had escaped.

Not only had she ruined everything, but she had also infuriated the businessman, putting Cynthia in a dangerous position.

Fury burned in her eyes.

If she could, she would rip Ariana's heart out.

Ariana, completely unfazed, tilted her head. "Oh, right. I met my uncle yesterday."

Cynthia stiffened.

"I told him everything you did to me," Ariana continued, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I wonder... do you think he'll let you off easy for drugging me and trying to sell me off?"

Cynthia's face drained of color.

"You... you went to the Rickshaws?" she hissed. "Impossible! They haven't cared about you in ten years. You're lying!"

Ariana smirked. "Am I?"

She pushed off the doorframe and took a step forward.

"Why don't we go to the Rickshaw house and see for ourselves? Let's see if they'll turn me away."

Her eyes glinted with challenge.

Cynthia faltered.

The last time the Rickshaw family had let Ariana go, they had made one thing clear-if she ever returned, they would settle both old and new scores.

If she stepped foot near the Rickshaws, they wouldn't just ignore her.

They would destroy her.

And yet, she couldn't let Ariana off the hook so easily.

A calculating gleam flickered in her eyes.

"Fine," she said smoothly. "Call your uncle now and invite him to dinner. If he agrees, I'll believe you. If he doesn't... you'll regret it."

Her meaning was clear.

If Dwayne refused, then Ariana's bluff was over.

And this time, Cynthia would make sure she ended up in a stranger's bed-one way or another.

Ariana's grip tightened around her phone.

"Fine."

She pressed the call button.

Chapter 2

Dwayne's invitation

In a moment of impulse, Ariana agreed to Cynthia's demand. But the thought of actually having to contact Dwayne made her stomach twist uneasily.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, her movements growing sluggish.

Cynthia let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "What's wrong? Why aren't you dialing? I knew it-you're bluffing. The Rickshaws forgot about you long ago. Do you really think Dwayne would pick up your call?"

Ariana shot her a fierce glare, teeth clenched.

Fine. If she wanted proof, she'd get proof.

Just as she tapped the first digit of Dwayne's number, her phone screen lit up.

She froze.

The words Uncle flashed on the screen like a harbinger of doom.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, and for a split second, she almost dropped the phone.

Ariana swallowed hard, forcing herself to suppress the wave of unease crawling up her spine. With stiff fingers, she answered the call.

"Hello, Uncle... do you need something?"

Dwayne's voice was as cold as ever, his words crisp and direct. "I want to invite you to a meal. When are you available?"

A stunned silence followed.

Across from her, Cynthia's eyes widened in disbelief, as if she had just seen a ghost.

Ariana took a steadying breath. "I'm available anytime, Uncle. Whenever you're free, we can arrange to meet."

"Tomorrow at noon?"

"Sure."

"I'll send you the address. Be on time."

"Okay-"

Before she could finish, the call disconnected.

Ariana stared at her phone, her heart still pounding.

Why did Dwayne want to meet her? Had he thought things through and decided to settle accounts with her once and for all?

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought.

But when she glanced up, her apprehension gave way to quiet satisfaction.

The once arrogant and domineering Cynthia now looked like a drenched cat-pathetic and defeated.

Ariana smirked. "What's wrong? You were all smug a minute ago. Why so quiet now?"

"I... I..." Cynthia stammered, caught between fear and anger.

Then, suddenly-thud.

She dropped to her knees.

"I'm sorry, Ariana!" she wailed, her voice trembling. "I wasn't thinking straight yesterday. It was an emergency-your father's in trouble! He's getting old... if he goes to prison, won't that be the end of him?"

Ariana's eyes darkened.

Without hesitation, she raised her hand-smack!

A sharp slap landed across Cynthia's cheek.

"That's for what you did yesterday," Ariana spat. "Don't ever try to set me up again. Next time, I won't let you off so easily."

A red mark bloomed on Cynthia's face, but she didn't react. Instead, she cupped her own cheek, sobbing pitifully.

"You're right! I was despicable! I was blinded by desperation! But please, Ariana, I beg you-save your father!"

Ariana's heart wavered for a moment.

No matter how much her father had wronged her mother, blood ties weren't something she could erase.

But begging her grandfather's family for that man?

Not a chance.

"If you want to save him, figure it out yourself," she said coldly. "I won't beg my grandfather's family for anything."

Cynthia's sobs turned shrill. "You're heartless! You don't care about your father's life-fine! But what about your grandfather? He has a heart condition! If he finds out his son is going to prison and has an attack because of it, can you live with that?"

Ariana's hand clenched around the doorknob.

"Are you threatening me with my grandfather now?"

"Threaten you?" Cynthia sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face. "Bad news can't be hidden forever. You can keep it from the old man for a while, but what about later? He's bound to find out eventually. Do you think he'll never notice his son missing?"

Ariana's body went rigid.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, she exhaled sharply. "Get out."

"What about your father-"

"I said I'll think about it."

A flash of triumph crossed Cynthia's face.

She sniffled again, as if still crying, and murmured, "Alright... take your time to decide. I'll go make you something to eat."

Ariana didn't respond.

Her grip on the doorknob tightened until her knuckles turned white.

"Eat her cooking? Might as well be poison."

Ariana scoffed, ignoring Cynthia she shut the door behind her.

With a heavy sigh, she collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind drifted to the inevitable meeting with Dwayne tomorrow.

Her uncle had always been a man of few words, his stern expression rarely cracking into a smile. But after he joined the special forces, any trace of warmth seemed to have vanished altogether.

The last time she saw him was ten years ago, when he had just turned twenty. She still remembered him in his green military uniform-tall, commanding, exuding an air of strength that made people instinctively straighten their backs. His sharp, hawk-like eyes could pierce right through anyone who dared meet his gaze.

The memory of that day remained vivid.

It was right after the court decided she would be raised by her father. Dwayne had stormed into the Falter household, determined to take her with him.

Her father refused.

They fought.

Right there in the living room, fists flying, voices raised.

Eight-year-old Ariana had stood frozen in the corner, terrified, tears streaming down her face.

In the end, for reasons she never fully understood, Dwayne left alone.

She watched his figure retreat down the hallway, growing smaller and smaller-until it became nothing more than a distant, faded image in her mind.

And now, after a decade, they were reuniting under the most awkward circumstances imaginable.

The following day arrived far too soon.

Despite dreading the encounter, Ariana forced herself to the designated restaurant.

The moment she spotted Dwayne, her steps faltered.

Her heart pounded-not with excitement, but with an all-too-familiar fear.

Steeling herself, she approached him cautiously. "Uncle... no, Mr. Rickshaw... um, you wanted to see me?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, as soft as a mosquito's hum.

Dwayne's brows furrowed slightly. Was she really that afraid of him?

"I don't bite," he said flatly. "Sit down. Let's talk."

His deep, commanding voice sent a ripple through her chest. It was rich and magnetic, almost hypnotic. Yet, it only made her nerves tighten.

With measured steps, Ariana sat down-on the farthest edge of her seat, as if ready to bolt at any second. She kept her gaze low, staring at her lap.

"What do you want to eat? Order anything."

Dwayne handed her the menu.

Ariana hesitated, stealing a quick glance at his long, well-defined fingers before lowering her eyes again.

Then she saw the prices.

Five digits-for a single dish?!

Her throat went dry.

What kind of food is this? Gold-plated caviar?

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she debated. Finally, she settled on the cheapest item-a salad.

Dwayne arched a brow. "That's all? Are you on a diet?"

Without waiting for an answer, he took the menu and ordered a few more dishes himself.

Ariana's cheeks burned. "I'm not on a diet..." she mumbled.

"Good. Girls shouldn't be too skinny-it's not healthy. Make sure you eat properly."

"Yes."

She nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

Silence settled between them.

Dwayne, never one for small talk, didn't seem in a hurry to fill it. But for Ariana, the quiet was suffocating. Beads of sweat formed on the tip of her nose.

Finally, she mustered the courage to ask, "Uncle... um, is there something specific you wanted to discuss with me?"

Dwayne's dark eyes met hers.

"I've found a place for you to live. It's time for you to move out of the Falter residence."

His voice was steady, deep-like the low hum of a cello.

Ariana stiffened. "Why... Why do you want me to move out?"

Dwayne leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "I've looked into your life over the past ten years. Your father and that woman-Cynthia-haven't treated you well. If you move out, you'll be in a better environment."

A beat passed before he added, his lips pressing into a thin line, "No matter how you see it, you are a member of the Rickshaw family. You've suffered all these years-why didn't you reach out to us?"

Ariana's hands curled into fists beneath the table.

Why?

Because for ten years, she had been nothing but a ghost to them. Because the Rickshaws had abandoned her the day Dwayne walked out of the Falter household.

Because deep down, she had never truly believed she belonged to them.

Ariana felt a sharp sting at the tip of her nose, a familiar ache of suppressed emotions. How could she possibly say it? She had been the one who initially rejected her grandfather's family's goodwill, choosing instead to stay with her father.

Whatever suffering she endured after that-she had brought it upon herself.

Dwayne waited in silence for a moment, watching her hesitate. When she still refused to answer, he raised an eyebrow slightly and said, "If you don't want to talk about it, I won't press. The apartment is near your school. I'll deposit your tuition and pocket money into your account on time. If you run into any difficulties, let me know. As long as it's within my ability, I'll help you."

"I..." Ariana instinctively wanted to refuse his kindness, but just as she opened her mouth, the waiter arrived with their food.

"No need to argue-let's eat," Dwayne said, effectively shutting down the conversation.

Left with no choice, she swallowed her words.

After the meal, Dwayne took her to her new residence. She had expected a modest apartment, something simple. But when she arrived, she realized how naive that assumption had been.

The duplex was in a high-end residential area, right in the heart of the city. It boasted four bedrooms, a lavish study, a private theater, and even a shooting range. The decor followed a sleek European black-and-white aesthetic-understated yet undeniably luxurious. But Ariana's sharp eyes caught on to the details. Some of the furnishings were antiques, rare and undoubtedly expensive.

Was this place really meant for her? Alone?

This level of opulence was far beyond what she had imagined, and despite their supposed familial ties, she couldn't accept such an extravagant gift from Dwayne without hesitation.

"This is the general layout," he said. "Let me know if anything is missing, and I'll have someone bring it over."

"No, there's nothing more I need," she murmured, biting her lip before hesitantly asking, "Am I the only one living here?"

Dwayne glanced at her, expression unreadable. "Do you want me to live with you?"

Ariana nearly choked, her breath catching in her throat. She coughed a few times before blurting out, "Absolutely not!"

"Good," he replied, completely unfazed. "I have my own place. If you ever feel lonely, you can invite classmates over. Also, I've hired a housekeeper. She'll come by daily to cook and clean."

Ariana nodded rapidly, like a pecking chick. "Oh. Okay."

Dwayne checked his watch. "If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving now."

He took a step forward, about to go, when an inexplicable urge overtook her. Before she could think it through, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.

The instant she felt his cool skin under her fingertips, his body tensed slightly. Realizing what she had done, Ariana quickly let go, yet the warmth from that fleeting touch lingered.

She hesitated, her slender neck arching slightly like a swan's as she finally asked, "Can I ask... are you doing all this to compensate me?"

It had been ten years without a single word between them, and now, all of a sudden, he was showering her with generosity. Was this really about family, or was it because of that night?

Dwayne's brows knitted slightly, his expression darkening-an unspoken warning.

Ariana let out a self-deprecating laugh. She had expected this reaction.

Curling her lips into a mocking smile, she spoke lightly, "Mr. Rickshaw-"

"Call me Uncle," he interrupted.

A slight pause. Then, she relented. "Uncle, if you're doing all this out of guilt, there's really no need. That night was my mistake. I don't think you owe me anything."

His deep-set eyes narrowed slightly. "This isn't about compensation. I'm taking care of you because that's what an uncle should do. Our family failed you for ten years. That won't happen again."

His voice was steady, his words resolute. "Give me some time. I'll arrange for you to meet your grandparents. Once they accept you, I'll bring you back to the Rickshaw family home. Until then, you'll have to make do with living here."

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and lightly patted the top of her head.

The warmth of his palm spread through her hair, settling on her scalp. Ariana blinked, momentarily stunned.

Dwayne's voice softened. "As for that night... let's both forget it ever happened."

Chapter 3

The School Play

After handing over the apartment, Dwayne left in a hurry.

Ariana stood at the doorway for a long time, absentmindedly touching the top of her head where his hand had rested just moments ago. Her lips curled up slightly before she even realized it.

Lost in thought, she glanced at the wall clock.

Oh no!

Her heart lurched. She had an afternoon class with Professor Oliver-a notorious stickler for attendance. If she got caught skipping, she'd be in serious trouble!

Panicking, Ariana grabbed her bag and sprinted toward the door. But the moment she yanked it open, she nearly collided with a neatly dressed middle-aged woman.

Both of them froze.

The woman recovered first and spoke politely. "Miss Ariana, right? I'm Margot, sent by Mr. Rickshaw to assist you. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Oh, hello!" Ariana blurted hastily, sidestepping her. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry-I have to go!"

Without waiting for a response, she dashed off.

A week passed in the blink of an eye, and Dwayne never showed up again.

Instead, he called her daily, always asking if she was settling in, if she needed anything, if everything was alright. His tone was consistently warm, exactly how a caring uncle should sound.

Gradually, Ariana found herself letting go of the resentment she had once held.

One morning...

After finishing her classes, Ariana was preparing to head to her part-time job when her phone rang. A name flashed on the screen-Cynthia.

Her stepmother.

Ariana's expression darkened.

Still, she answered.

"Ariana, you haven't been home in a week. Where have you been? Do you know how worried your father and I have been?" Cynthia's voice was soft, almost affectionate.

Ariana let out a cold chuckle. Worried?

Who was it that had drugged her and planned to throw her into another man's bed?

Suppressing the disgust churning in her chest, she replied evenly, "I've rented a place. I won't be coming home anymore. If there's nothing important, stop calling me."

Cynthia acted as if she hadn't heard the dismissal. "You're a young girl-living alone isn't safe. Come home, Ariana. From now on, I'll have the driver pick you up and drop you off every day."

Ariana's patience thinned. "Is there anything else? If not, I'm hanging up."

There was a pause before Cynthia finally got to the real reason she called.

"Did you talk to your uncle about our company's situation?"

Ariana smirked. So that's what this is really about.

"Not yet," she said lazily. "My uncle's been busy. We only had lunch once, and I haven't seen him since. When he's less busy, I'll bring it up."

"Can't you hurry it up?"

Ariana rolled her eyes. "You think I don't want to? You think it's that easy?"

"Ariana, don't be selfish! Your father is worrying himself sick-"

Ariana ended the call before she could hear more of the same emotional manipulation. Then, for good measure, she turned off her phone.

Later that evening...

She rushed onto a bus, sweat glistening on her forehead as she hurried to meet her friend Kira.

"I'm sorry, I'm late!"

Kira barely spared her a glance before shoving a garment into her hands. "Never mind that! Hurry and change-the show's about to start!"

Ariana blinked at the outfit. A plunge sheath dress.

Ducking into the dressing room, she pulled it on-only to stare at her reflection in horror.

The slit ran dangerously high, exposing her thighs with every tiny movement. And the dress's v neck dipped low, revealing her cleavage... It was downright provocative. This wasn't just fashionable-it was scandalous.

Her face burned.

"Ariana, what are you doing in there? Hurry up! The stage manager's waiting!"

Ariana hesitantly poked her head out. "Kira... can I wear something else? This is too revealing."

Her friend froze-then burst into laughter. "You? Acting shy? Come on, Ariana, a bikini shows way more than this!"

"But-"

"No buts! Just suck it up and get out here!"

Before she could argue further, Kira shoved her out of the dressing room.

With no choice, Ariana forced herself to stay composed and joined the lineup.

She tried to focus on the press conference, but as she scanned the audience, her gaze landed on someone seated in the VIP section.

Her breath caught.

Uncle Dwayne?!

Her stomach flipped.

Why was he here?!

Ariana stiffened, a wave of mortification washing over her. She glanced down at her attire and felt her face go up in flames.

She wanted to run.

But in front of so many people... escape wasn't an option.

A bead of sweat trickled down her temple as Dwayne's dark eyes locked onto her.

Unblinking. Unreadable.

And utterly focused on her.

Dwayne sat in the VIP section, his deep, frosty gaze devoid of emotion.

Today's event was the Jackson family's product launch, and Morgan had invited him as a courtesy. They had agreed it would take just half an hour-but the red carpet alone had already eaten up more than that.

He hated wasting time on pointless formalities.

Just as irritation crept in, Morgan draped an arm over his shoulder, his signature peach blossom eyes curving with amusement.

"Dwayne, the ushers today aren't bad," he drawled lazily. "Nice figures, soft skin-you could squeeze water out of them."

His gaze swept over the lineup of hostesses, then zeroed in on one in particular.

"Look at the second-to-last one. Seventeen, maybe eighteen-legs that could keep you entertained for a whole year. Tsk, tsk."

He elbowed Dwayne, smirking. "Hey, bro, aren't you still a virgin? Why not chat her up?"

Dwayne followed Morgan's line of sight, his expression indifferent-until his eyes landed on the second-to-last girl.

The moment he saw her, his gaze turned razor-sharp.

Ariana.

A wave of icy pressure filled the space around him.

Morgan shivered. "Damn, is the AC on too high? Should I ask them to-"

Before he could finish, Dwayne abruptly stood up.

Startled murmurs rippled through the VIP section.

"Dwayne, what the hell are you doing?" Morgan grabbed his arm in alarm.

Dwayne clenched his fists, barely restraining himself. A few seconds passed before he forced himself to sit back down, but his eyes never left Ariana.

Following his gaze, Morgan smirked.

"Didn't you just say you weren't interested? And now you're practically ogling her."

He chuckled. "I'll admit, out of all the ushers, she is the prettiest. Look at those breasts-"

"Shut up."

Dwayne's hand shot out, gripping Morgan's tie. His voice dropped to a menacing growl.

"If you look at her again, I'll gouge out your eyes."

Morgan: "..."

At that moment, Ariana sensed something.

A chill ran down her spine.

She glanced up-and locked eyes with Dwayne.

Ariana's blood drained from her face.

It's over.

I'm dead.

She always knew her uncle would find her eventually... but she hadn't expected it to happen like this.

Her mind screamed for an escape route, but there was nowhere to run. She was trapped on stage, exposed under a hundred watchful eyes.

Every second stretched into eternity.

Finally, the press conference ended.

The moment the host dismissed them, Ariana bolted.

"Ari, where are you going?" Kira called after her.

"Restroom!" she yelled over her shoulder, picking up speed.

Dwayne rose from his seat, pushing past Morgan without hesitation.

His voice rang out, deep and commanding.

"Ariana, stop right there!"

Ariana's legs nearly buckled.

But fear propelled her forward.

If he catches me, I'm done for!

She weaved through the crowd, finally breaking out into the open hallway. The heavy weight of Dwayne's gaze lifted, and she exhaled in relief.

She needed to change out of this dress, fast.

But before she could reach the dressing room, a figure stepped into her path.

A bald, greasy-faced man with a beer belly and yellowed teeth smiled at her.

"Miss, hello. I'm John Dalton, the manager of Brilliant Company."

His beady eyes roamed over her figure. "I noticed you on stage. Do you have time to join me for dinner?"

Ariana's stomach churned.

Definitely not a good person.

She took a step back. "I'm sorry, I don't have time."

She moved to walk past him, but his hand snatched her wrist.

"Don't leave so fast, beautiful," he sneered. "Let's talk a little."