Aria kept her expression calm, but inside, her thoughts churned. The note. Natalie's warning. Logan's disappearance. Too many things were happening at once, and none of them felt coincidental.
Damian, ever observant, let out a low chuckle. "You look like you're calculating your next ten moves."
Aria exhaled through her nose. "I don't like surprises."
"Then you're really going to hate this," he murmured, subtly tilting his glass toward the far end of the ballroom.
Aria followed his gaze and felt her stomach tighten. A man stood there, partially obscured by the shadows, watching her. He wasn't anyone she recognized, but something about him felt… deliberate. Like he wanted her to notice him.
"Friend of yours?" Damian asked, his voice light but his eyes sharp.
"No." Aria placed her untouched champagne flute on a passing waiter's tray. "But I intend to find out who he is."
Damian sighed dramatically. "Of course you do."
Before she could move, Russell Pierce brushed past her in a hurry, his usually composed demeanor slipping just for a second. His hands clenched, and his jaw was tight—he looked rattled. Aria acted quickly, stepping into his path before he could disappear into the crowd.
"Leaving so soon?" she asked smoothly.
Russell flinched but covered it with a strained smile. "I have business to attend to."
"Of course." Aria tilted her head. "Tell me, Russell, do you usually get this nervous around old acquaintances?"
His smile stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Aria took a slow step closer. "You're sweating, your hands are shaking slightly, and I'm fairly certain you just received news that has you reconsidering your entire evening. Should I be concerned?"
Russell hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.
"I—" He cut himself off, eyes darting toward the man in the shadows.
Aria caught the look. Interesting.
Damian, standing beside her, let out a hum of amusement. "Looks like our friend here has an unexpected guest tonight."
Russell straightened his shoulders, as if gathering what little confidence he had left. "Stay out of this, Aria. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Aria's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "That's where you're wrong, Russell. I know exactly what game I'm playing."
Russell exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "Then you should know that some games don't have winners. Only survivors."
Before Aria could press further, a discreet vibration against her palm drew her attention. Her phone. She pulled it out, frowning at the unknown number flashing across the screen.
Something told her she needed to take this call.
Glancing at Russell one last time, she murmured, "This isn't over." Then, without another word, she turned away and answered the call as she walked toward the quieter corridor leading away from the main ballroom.
The voice on the other end was deep, unfamiliar, and laced with something that made her blood run cold.
"You should have listened to the warning, Miss Vance."
The line went dead.
Aria lowered the phone, her pulse racing.
Before she could process it, Damian suddenly turned to her. "I need to take this," he said, nodding toward his own buzzing phone. His expression was unreadable, but there was something purposeful about the way he stepped back.
Aria narrowed her eyes. "Now?"
"It's important," he said smoothly, already moving toward a quieter section of the ballroom. "Try not to get into trouble without me."
She huffed, but the moment he was out of sight, she felt a strange weight settle over her. She was being watched. Again.
From the corner of her eye, Aria saw the man in the shadows slip through a side exit.
Without hesitation, she followed.
The air in the stairwell was cooler, the noise from the gala muffled. Aria descended cautiously, the click of her heels echoing against the stone walls. Dim lighting cast elongated shadows, giving the space a cavernous, almost eerie feel.
Halfway down, she caught movement below. The man—tall, dressed in a dark suit, his posture tense. He hadn't expected her to follow.
"Going somewhere?" Aria's voice was calm, controlled.
The man turned slightly but didn't step forward. Instead, his lips curled into a smirk. "Miss Vance. I was wondering how long it would take you."
Her grip tightened on the railing. "Who are you?"
His expression remained unreadable. "A messenger."
Aria arched a brow. "And what message are you delivering?"
He pulled something from his pocket—a folded piece of paper, eerily similar to the note she had received earlier. He extended it toward her but didn't step closer.
She hesitated for only a second before reaching for it. The moment her fingers touched the paper, the man leaned in just enough for her to catch the sharp, unfamiliar scent of his cologne.
"Be careful where you step, Miss Vance," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The ground beneath you isn't as solid as you think."
Before she could react, he turned and disappeared through a side door, leaving her alone in the stairwell.
Aria unfolded the note, her pulse hammering as she read the words scrawled in elegant handwriting:
*You're asking the wrong questions now. The real danger isn't ahead of you—it's behind.*
Her breath caught.
Behind her.
She spun on instinct, but the stairwell was empty.
For now.
----
As Aria ascended the stairs back toward the ballroom, her mind spun with possibilities. But before she could reach the exit, a voice echoed from above.
"You're persistent. That will either save you or destroy you."
She froze. Looking up, she saw another figure standing at the landing, shrouded in dim light. This one, however, wasn't hiding. He wanted to be seen.
Aria straightened. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled, stepping forward just enough for her to see the faint scar running along his jaw. "A friend. Or an enemy. Depends on how well you play your cards."
She studied him, taking in his sharp suit and the way he carried himself—controlled, confident, dangerous. "Then tell me. How do I win this game?"
He tilted his head. "By figuring out who's already ahead of you."
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd beyond the stairwell door, leaving Aria with more questions than answers.