Chapter 122
Aria’s POV
A few days after the gala, I was drowning in merger paperwork when my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
“Thought you should know—your ’changed man’ is at the Riverside Hotel. Room 1247. With a blonde, some things never change p>
My blood turned cold. No, not again, he wouldn’t. Another text, this time with a photo. Damien’s car in the hotel parking lot, unmistakable with its custom plates.
My hands shook as I stared at the image of the Riverside Hotel.
It’s a setup, my logical mind screamed. It’s too obvious, too convenient.
But my heart—my shattered, barely-healed heart—whispered: What if it’s real? What if you were stupid enough to trust him again?
I called Damien but it went straight to voicemail. Called again. Voicemail.
Texted: “Where are you p>
No response.
“No.” I stood abruptly, grabbing my purse. “No, no, no p>
“Ms. Monroe?” My assistant looked up, concerned. “Are you alright p>
“Cancel my afternoon meetings.” My voice was steady despite the panic clawing at my chest. “Family emergency p>
I was in my car before I could second-guess myself, driving toward the Riverside Hotel with my heart in my throat. Traffic blurred past. My mind spun with possibilities, each worse than the last.
He wouldn’t do this again. He’s been so devoted, so patient. He loves Noah, he loves me.
But men like Damien don’t change. Isn’t that what Sophia said?
This is a trap, it has to be a trap.
But what if it’s not?
I pulled into the hotel parking lot, and there it was—Damien’s car, exactly where the photo showed it as my stomach dropped.
I called him one more time as I walked through the lobby. Voicemail again. The elevator ride to the twelfth floor felt like descending into hell. Each floor chimed mockingly, twelve floors to discover if I’d made the same mistake twice.
Room 1247. I stood outside the door, hand raised to knock, unable to move.
Last chance to walk away, to not know for sure, to preserve the fantasy you’ve been building.
But I couldn’t live with not knowing, I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering.
The door was slightly ajar, my heart hammered as I pushed it open. The room was dim, curtains drawn. And there, on the bed was Damien. Unconscious. Shirt partially unbuttoned, tie loosened.
And Sophia Clarke, wearing nothing but red lingerie and a satisfied smile, holding her phone up for photos.
“Perfect timing,” she purred. “I was just about to send these to the press. ’CEO Damien Blackwood Caught Cheating Again.’ It’ll be on the front page by morning p>
For one horrible second, the world tilted. The scene before me overlapped with a memory—walking in on Damien and Vivian years ago, the same devastation, the same betrayal.
But this time
This time, something was wrong.
Damien wasn’t moving at all. His chest rose and fell shallowly, but his face was slack, unconscious in a way that looked nothing like sleep.
“What did you do to him?” My voice was deadly calm.
Sophia’s smile faltered. “What? Nothing. We just”
“He’s unconscious.” I moved closer, checking his pulse. Strong but slow. Pupils dilated when I lifted an eyelid. “You drugged him p>
“I didn’t” Sophia stood, grabbing a robe. “He came here willingly. We had drinks, and”
“Liar.” I pulled out my phone, dialing 911 with steady hands. “Yes, I need an ambulance at the Riverside Hotel, room 1247. Possible drug overdose p>
“You can’t,” Sophia lunged for my phone.
I sidestepped her easily, my voice never wavering as I gave the operator details. Years of surviving alone had made me harder than Sophia Clarke could ever imagine.
“The photos are already sent,” Sophia hissed when I hung up. “To every major news outlet, your precious Damien is finished p>
“No.” I turned to face her fully, and something in my expression made her step back. “You’re finished, because this” I gestured at the room, at Damien’s unconscious form, “is assault. Drugging someone, staging compromising photos? That’s criminal p>
“You can’t prove”
“Hotel security footage will show you luring him here.” My voice was cold. “Toxicology reports will show what you put in his drink. And those photos you’re so proud of?” I smiled without humor. “They prove premeditation, you posed him. Staged everything. That’s evidence, Sophia p>
Her face paled. “He’ll never prove he didn’t want this p>
“He won’t have to.” I heard sirens approaching. “I will. Because unlike last time, I’m not running. I’m not assuming the worst. I’m standing by him and I’m destroying everyone who tried to hurt him p>
“You’re delusional,” Sophia spat. “He’s using you! He’ll cheat again, he always does”
“No.” I cut her off. “He won’t. Because I know him now. Really know him and this?” I gestured at the pathetic scene. “This isn’t Damien. This is you being so desperate and pathetic that you had to drug a man to get him in bed p>
The door burst open. Paramedics rushed in, followed by hotel security.
“He’s been drugged,” I told them crisply. “Approximately” I checked my phone for the timestamp on the first text, “thirty minutes ago based on when he stopped responding to calls p>
The paramedics moved efficiently, checking Damien’s vitals, preparing to transport him. “Ma’am, we need you to step back,” one said to Sophia.
“I’m his” Sophia started.
“Nobody,” I finished. “She’s nobody. I’m his fiancée and the mother of his child, I am riding in the ambulance p>
Hotel security was already talking to Sophia, whose bravado was crumbling as she realized the situation she was in.
“This isn’t over,” she hissed at me as they loaded Damien onto a gurney.
“You’re right.” I met her eyes coldly. “It’s not. Because I’m pressing charges. For assault, for drugging, for attempted blackmail. And Sophia?” I smiled. “I hope that moment of satisfaction was worth it. Because it’s going to cost you everything p>
Vivian’s POV – Earlier That Day
The psychiatric facility’s day room was depressing as hell. Fluorescent lights, plastic chairs, crazy people talking to themselves. This was what my life had become because of Aria. Perfect, precious Aria who’d stolen everything.
My phone buzzed with a text from Sophia.”He’s on his way to the hotel,are you sure about this p>
I smiled, typing back. “Positive. This will destroy them both. Aria will never trust him again p>
The whole plan had been almost too easy to set up. Sophia, bitter and obsessed, was desperate to hurt Damien. I was desperate to hurt Aria. Together, we made the perfect team.
“What if she doesn’t believe it? What if she forgives him?” Sophia texted.
“She won’t. Trust me—I know my sister. One hint of betrayal and she’ll run, it is what she does p>
I’d spent days in this hellhole after my breakdown at the reporter ambush, but it had been worth it. The doctors thought I was unstable, traumatized by Aria’s cruelty. They had no idea I’d been planning.
Sophia had done the hard part—getting Damien to the hotel. She’d called, pretending to be his assistant, saying there was an urgent contract signing. Damien, ever the workaholic, had shown up.
One drugged drink later, and we had our unconscious CEO. My phone buzzed again. Sophia, sending photos. Damien on the bed, shirt open, looking thoroughly compromised. Sophia posed beside him in lingerie, the perfect picture of infidelity.
“Photos about to be sent to the press, this is going to be everywhere by tonight p>
I grinned, typing back. “Perfect. Did you send Aria the anonymous tip p>
“Done, she should be on her way now or maybe crying p>
I leaned back in my chair, imagining Aria’s face when she walked into that hotel room. The devastation, the betrayal. The realization that she’d been stupid enough to trust Damien Blackwood twice.
It was almost poetic.”Vivian?” A nurse approached. “Time for group therapy p>
“Of course.” I smiled sweetly, the perfect recovering patient. “I’ll be right there p>
But inside, I was laughing. Because by tonight, Aria’s perfect little family fantasy would be shattered. Damien would be disgraced. And I. I would finally have my revenge.
My phone buzzed one more time. Sophia.
“Problem. Aria showed up but she’s not reacting how we thought. She called 911. Said I drugged him, hotel security is here. Viv, what do I do p>
My smile faltered. “What do you mean she called 911? She’s supposed to assume he cheated p>
“She figured it out! She saw he was unconscious and knew it was a setup. She’s pressing charges. VIV, I’M GOING TO BE ARRESTED p>
No. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Aria was supposed to run, to cry, to fall apart. Not call the authorities, not see through the plan.
“Stick to the story. Say he came willingly, say you had drinks together and try to play the victim p>
“She’s too calm and collected. It’s like she knew this would happen. Like she was WAITING for someone to try this p>
I stared at my phone, rage building. Of course. Of course Aria had thought ahead. My brilliant, paranoid sister who trusted no one had probably been expecting something like this.
She’d probably had security protocols in place. Had probably briefed Damien on possible traps. Probably.
“The paramedics just left with him. She’s riding in the ambulance. Hotel security is talking to me about pressing charges. VIV, HELP ME p>
I couldn’t help her. If I got involved, they’d know we’d conspired together. The whole plan would unravel.
“I don’t know you. If the police ask, we never talk. Delete these messages p>
“YOU BITCH! YOU SAID THIS WOULD WORK p>
“It didn’t, cut your losses and run p>
I blocked Sophia’s number, fury coursing through me. Another plan ruined. Another attempt to destroy Aria that backfired. But I wasn’t done, not even close.
If Sophia got arrested, she’d probably try to make a deal—tell them about our planning sessions, about how I’d suggested the hotel, the photos, everything.
I needed to get out of this facility, fast.”Nurse?” I called sweetly. “I’m actually not feeling well. Can I skip group therapy today p>
“Of course, honey.” She smiled sympathetically. “Go rest. We’ll check on you later p>