Chapter 7
The air buzzed with excitement as guests arrived at the enormous ballroom of the Blackwood Hotel, the venue for the year’s most anticipated charity event. Cameras flashed, reporters screamed out names, and the city’s elite strolled through the door, wrapped in beautiful gowns and tailored suits.
But tonight wasn’t about them. Tonight was about her.
Aria Laurent stepped out of the sleek black sedan, her heels tapping on the polished marble driveway. The minute she emerged, the audience stilled–as if the entire air had moved.
She was stunning.
Dressed in a deep crimson gown that caressed her figure, her dark hair combed into a neat updo, and a diamond necklace lying perfectly against her collarbone, she emanated authority. The type of power that made people stop and stare.
The kind of power that made her dangerous.
She ignored the flashing cameras and murmuring as she proceeded up the steps. They didn’t matter. Only one person’s reaction did.
And he was inside. Adrian Marsden has spent months hunting.
Months of sleepless nights, chasing clues that led to nothing. Months of drowning in remorse, in regret, in the overwhelming sensation that he had lost the only thing that had ever mattered.
He told himself that she was gone. That he had to accept it. But he never did.
And now, as he stood in the midst of the ballroom, surrounded by people who had no idea how hollow he felt, he sensed her.
A presence. A shift in the air.
And suddenly, as if fate had finally decided to play its cruelest hand–he spotted her.
His breath gone. The glass in his hand nearly slid from his fingers. For a time, his heart halted.
Isabella. No. Not Isabella. Not the lady he had broken.
The woman standing at the door, strolling with confidence, with fire in her eyes, with an expression so cold it shot chills through him…
She wasn’t his wife. She was someone else totally. But it didn’t matter. She was alive. And that was all Adrian cared about.
Aria felt his stare before she even saw him.
Her steps slowed slightly, just enough to relish the moment.
The moment when Adrian Marsden realized he had lost.
She turned her head, meeting eyes with him from across the ballroom.
His typically composed face crumbled. His hands curled into fists. His chest rose and sank too swiftly.
For months, he had convinced himself that she was gone. That she was dead. That he would never see her again.
And now, she was here, alive, untouched and unreachable. A spirit that refused to stay buried.
Aria inclined her head slightly, letting a little, enigmatic smile play on her lips.
Then, she turned aside deliberately. As if he was nothing. As if he never longer existed. Adrian’s body moved before his head could catch up.
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the puzzled eyes, ignoring the inquiries tossed his way. His gaze tunneled, latching onto her.
She strolled with effortless ease, her posture relaxed, unbothered. Like she belonged here. Like she had never left.
Like she hadn’t faked her own death and fled from his world.
His pulse raced in his ears as he reached her, his hand grasping her wrist before she could take another step.
The moment his skin contacted hers, he felt it.
The shock. The connection. The electricity that had always been between them.
She slowly turned, her countenance calm.
But her eyes… They were cold and deadly. Not his Isabella.
“Bella…” His voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with disbelief and something dangerously close to hope. “Tell me this isn’t a dream.”
Aria didn’t draw away immediately.
She let him hang onto the delusion for one more second.
Then, with meticulous precision, she slipped her hand from his grip and took a cautious sip from her champagne glass.
“Mr. Marsden,” she murmured effortlessly, her lips twisting into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Do I know you?”
Adrian’s breath hitched. His world disintegrated.
The woman in front of him wasn’t perplexed She wasn’t someone who had lost her memories or been taken away.
She was choosing not to know him. Choosing to delete him.
Adrian staggered back slightly, like she had physically smacked him.
“No,” he answered, shaking his head His voice sank, gruff and low “No, you don’t get to do this.”
Aria arched a brow “Do what?” His jaw clinched “Pretend”
Her state remained steady, unwavering “I’m not pretending anything, Mr. Marsden”
Adian felt like he was drowning. The last time he had seen her, she had been his wife. She had been his everything. Now, she was untouchable
She turned to move away again, but Adrian’s hand crashed against the wall beside her, blocking her passage.
“Enough,” he hissed
For the first time that night, Aria smiled. It was slow, sarcastic, tinged with humor. She leaned forward slightly, her breath warm against his ear
“Careful, Adrian,” she cautioned “People are watching.”
He didn’t care. Didn’t care about the murmurs, the glances, the entire danu city watching him break apart.
His other hand brushed act as her waist, clutching the fabric of her dreas.
Chapter 7
“You left,” he continued, his voice taut. “You faked your death and walked away like I meant nothing.”
She tilted her head slightly, her expression still unreadable. “Because you didn’t.”
His heart stopped.
For a second, just a second, she saw it–the sorrow in his eyes.
Adrian had always been skilled at masking emotion. At playing the perfect man, the perfect husband.
But now?
Now, he was exposed and Aria delighted in it.
She leaned back, brushing passed him with ease, leaving behind only the tiniest trace of aroma.
Adrian stood there, paralyzed, breathless and hollow.
And then, as if she hadn’t just decimated him in the span of two minutes, she peered over her shoulder and delivered the ultimate blow.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Marsden.”
Then, she disappeared into the crowd. Adrian Marsden has always been the hunter.
But tonight… He was the prey.
