SEVEN YEARS LATER
The runway lights faded behind her, leaving only the quiet buzz of backstage chaos and whispered praise. Aria Valentina stepped down from the platform, soft smile still painted on her lips as the crew swarmed around her.
"Aria, you were an angel out there," her manager Lila gushed, her voice nearly squeaking. "The Valentino team said you looked like a dream. I mean, you are a dream. How do you—?"
Aria turned, gently taking Lila's hand between her soft palms, voice as sweet as sugar. "Thank you, Lila. You're always so kind to me."
Lila blinked. "I—Oh. Wow. That's…" She giggled awkwardly. "You're just… perfect. You really want to rest now?"
Aria nodded, her lashes fluttering like doll eyes. "If it's okay… I'm a little tired."
"Of course! Of course, baby girl. You've earned it." Lila beamed, brushing her shoulder. "I'll handle everything. You just relax, alright?"
"Thank you," Aria whispered, voice almost shy, almost delicate. The kind of tone that made people want to shield her.
But as soon as the door to her dressing room shut behind her and the quiet returned, the sweetness melted from her expression like it had never been there.
Her soft smile twisted into something sharper.
Aria moved to the mirror, her hands unpinning her hair, letting the waves fall down her back. Her lips curved—not with innocence, but with amusement. She could still play the perfect doll.
But they didn't know her.
Not really.
She was the flame hidden inside silk. The seductress behind the saint. And the world had no idea.
Her gaze locked onto her reflection. "So polite. So obedient," she whispered mockingly to herself. "Poor Lila would cry if she ever met the real me."
Seven years had passed since the massacre. Since he took her in. Five years since he disappeared without a word.
He had called her a debt. A little fox. Had he forgotten?
Did he think she wouldn't grow teeth?
A knock came at the door—firm, low.
Her expression didn't change. She tilted her head. "Come in."
The door opened.
But it wasn't Lila.
It wasn't security.
It was Silas.
Her brows lifted just a little. "Silas," she said softly. "It's been a while."
He hadn't aged much. Still dressed in black. Still unreadable. Still one of Damian Velenzo's most loyal men.
"I've come to take you home," he said, voice flat.
Aria stood, her gown catching the light like liquid metal. "Home?" she echoed, her tone light.
Silas nodded. "He's back."
The world stopped turning for half a breath.
Aria didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
Then her lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. "Oh? So the ghost returns."
Silas gave nothing away. "The car is waiting. Change if you need to."
She stepped forward, her hand brushing past him deliberately. "I'll be five minutes."
As she walked past, hips swaying, hair cascading down her back, her eyes glinted in the mirror. Not the soft doll everyone else saw.
But the girl with blood in her memory and fire in her bones.
She was going home.
To him.
And this time, she wasn't the little fox he left behind, she was a woman.
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