The Valleria family home had always seemed like a place never truly inhabited by humans—too clean, too large, too quiet in the spaces that were supposed to be warm. From the outside, the house stood grand, garden lights casting a soft glow against its white marble walls. But inside, the living room was filled with a cold silence that no expensive sofa or classical painting lining the walls could conceal.
Aria stepped inside after a day long enough to tire her body, even though her face showed none of it. Her gaze was empty yet steady, her steps unhurried, and the air itself seemed to hold its breath as she crossed the threshold.
Helena—who was sitting on the sofa holding a cup of herbal tea—looked up the moment she saw Aria enter.
"Aria… you're home?"
The voice sounded like someone reciting words practiced in front of a mirror, rearranging sentence after sentence to sound warm, even though it never truly felt warm.
Aria looked at her for a few seconds.
"Yes."
Adrian closed his laptop with a slow motion, like someone who did not want to reveal his impatience.
"The teachers called me. They said you caused trouble at school."
Adrian's tone was not loud. But cold—
a cutting cold.
Aria did not blink.
"I didn't do anything."
Selena, who was sitting elegantly in the opposite chair, turned quickly. Her softly curled blonde hair moved with her, like a scene from a commercial. She lowered her head, wearing an expression that looked wounded.
"Father… please don't blame Aria…" she said softly, her voice trembling at just the right note to invite sympathy. "I'm sure she didn't mean to cause trouble…"
"Oh, Selena dear… you really are too kind," Helena whispered while gently stroking her adopted daughter's hand.
Aria looked at both of them—
then at Selena.
Selena, who had been playing the role of the Valleria family's little angel all this time, gave Aria a sad smile—a smile that appeared gentle, but deep within her brown eyes… there was a flash of victory.
Aria knew.
That smile was the smile of someone who knew she had won today.
Aria did not try to defend herself,
nor did she attempt to explain.
She only said briefly,
"I'm going to my room,"
and walked away.
Helena wanted to call after her, but the words caught in her throat. Adrian only let out a long sigh, rubbing his face like a father who did not know what to do with a daughter he could not understand. Selena lowered her head, playing with the edge of her sleeve, her expression still soft—yet there was a slight pull at the corner of her lips.
A small pull that signaled satisfaction.
---
Aria's room was silent.
A silence that was not calming—
a silence that felt like an empty room without identity.
She sat at her desk and turned on her slim black laptop. The screen lit up softly, reflecting her face like a blurred mirror. As soon as the system loaded, window after window appeared.
Patient records.
Heart-rate reports.
Organ-failure prediction algorithms.
Encrypted messages from Professor Lysander.
And an underground digital network monitoring system running in silent mode.
Aria began typing—
fast,
precise,
without pause.
This was the only world where she could breathe.
A world where she was a genius.
A world where she was useful.
A world where no one could touch her.
In the real world, Aria was just a quiet teenager considered strange.
But in the digital world, Aria was "Phoenix"—a mysterious medical savior respected by top doctors overseas.
And she was "Vanta"—a genius hacker whom even governments wanted to recruit, yet whose identity they did not know.
In the silence of her room, Aria typed without expression—yet a slight tension remained from the events of the day.
Not sadness.
Not anger.
More like exhaustion.
Like someone rereading a chapter she had already read dozens of times.
And suddenly—she stopped typing.
The clock on the wall ticked softly.
One second.
Two seconds.
Aria closed her eyes briefly.
There was something—
something very faint.
Something she recognized from her childhood, when she had to survive alone for ten years in a foreign place.
Surveillance.
She opened her eyes slowly and turned her gaze slightly toward the bedroom window.
Outside, the night wind passed by, carrying the scent of cedar trees from the yard. Streetlights reflected faintly against the glass, forming vague silhouettes.
Aria stood and moved closer to the window—
not hurried,
but not panicked.
She pulled the curtain open just a little and looked out.
Outside, it was dark, silent, and devoid of human presence.
Yet her body felt as if it were standing in someone's crosshairs.
Aria drew a quiet breath.
This was not paranoia.
Her instincts were rarely wrong.
Someone—somewhere—was paying attention to her.
But Aria did not let the sensation disturb her.
She closed the curtain, returned to her seat, and stared at the screen.
Her hand paused briefly above the keyboard.
She knew something had changed today.
And she knew that change had not come from school, or from the Valleria family.
But from another world.
A world that was quietly far more dangerous than any rumor or slander.
---
In the city center, the Vale Industries building shone like a night watchtower. From the highest floor, a man stood before a vast window—looking out at the city like someone gazing upon a world he could control at any moment.
Damian Alaric Vale.
Twenty-five years old, his gaze sharp.
Pitch-black hair.
Gray-green eyes that cut through silence.
An aura dark, calm, and far too dangerous for a young CEO.
He held a tablet.
And on the screen was a photo of Aria.
"The biological daughter of the Valleria family returns after disappearing for ten years."
That was the headline of the newly released article.
The article was not long.
Not detailed.
Not important to the public.
But to Damian, that photo stopped the world.
He zoomed in on Aria's face.
Those pale blue eyes—
a flat gaze that asked nothing of anyone.
Damian knew that look.
He knew it very well.
"…so calm," Damian murmured, his voice almost a whisper to himself.
Lucas, his aide, entered carrying reports.
"Mr. Vale, there are several documents that need your signa—"
Lucas stopped.
His eyes shifted to the tablet in Damian's hand.
"Sir… is that—?"
Damian raised a hand slightly, signaling Lucas to be silent.
This was not the time to speak.
He returned his gaze to Aria's photo.
"Find everything about this girl."
His voice was low, but carried a weight that made Lucas straighten unconsciously.
"Standard information, or—"
"Shadow channels."
Lucas nodded without argument.
"Yes, sir."
Damian stared at the photo again, and for a moment, he did not move.
As if he feared that if he looked away, the girl in the image would disappear again—just like two years ago.
---
Damian closed the news article and opened another file—
classified data he had kept since an incident two years earlier.
A short video.
Several dozen seconds.
Recorded accidentally by someone's phone.
The video showed heavy rain.
Panicked shouts.
Car headlights reflecting off wet asphalt.
And an elderly man kneeling on the ground.
His breathing had stopped.
People crowded around, unsure what to do.
"Is there a doctor?!"
"Hurry, he collapsed!"
"Please, he's not breathing!"
Then—
In the video, someone appeared.
A small figure.
A fourteen-year-old girl.
Her black hair soaked, clinging to her face.
Her eyes—
pale, calm, sharp.
She knelt beside the man's body without hesitation.
"Phase two, severe chest constriction. Begin CPR. Does anyone know the location of an AED?"
The adults were confused.
The girl took control.
Her hands were steady.
Her technique perfect.
The sound of rain did not disrupt her focus.
Damian remembered the terror and awe he had felt then.
That young girl should not have been capable of performing resuscitation with such precision.
But she did.
She saved the man.
When the ambulance finally arrived, the girl had already vanished into the narrow streets of the city.
Without asking for thanks.
Without leaving a name.
From that moment on…
Damian never forgot her.
And when he saw Aria's photo in the news—
He knew.
He had found her.
---
Back in Aria's room, the night grew darker. The desk lamp cast a pale white light over her skin. She typed again. Reviewing the heart-rate patterns of a rare patient. Reading blood-pressure data of a confidential client from Lysander. Replying to encrypted messages.
She sank into the world where she was someone.
But before she could finish her analysis, a new notification appeared on her laptop screen.
An article.
A piece of news.
A photo.
Her photo.
Aria stared at the screen in a long silence.
No comment.
No emotion.
But something in her eyes shifted slightly—like someone realizing her world was no longer hidden.
She closed the tab.
Yet the feeling of being watched—the sensation that had appeared since the afternoon—grew clearer.
Aria stood and turned off the light in her room.
Darkness filled the space.
She stood near the window—not fully opening the curtain, only slightly—and observed the night.
In the distance, wind tugged at tree branches.
Streetlights swayed faintly.
Cars passed slowly.
Aria closed her eyes.
Someone out there was…
looking for her.
Not someone she knew.
Not someone from her dark past.
This was something new.
A different sensation.
A gaze deeper, more focused, more inevitable.
And Aria, with the sharp instincts that had kept her alive all these years, knew one thing:
Someone was paying attention to her in a way that went far beyond mere curiosity.
---
In the Vale Industries building, Damian leaned closer to the screen.
"Aria Leighton Valleria…"
He repeated the name slowly, savoring each syllable.
He touched the screen, his finger resting precisely over Aria's eyes in the photo.
The same eyes he had seen two years ago.
Eyes that begged for nothing.
Eyes that had haunted his thoughts since the first day.
"I've found you," he whispered.
A smile slowly appeared.
Not the smile of a man falling in love.
Nor the smile of pride.
It was the smile of obsession finally finding its direction.
"…and this time, I won't let you go."
Outside the window, the city moved as usual.
But inside that room, Damian made a decision.
A decision that would change Aria's life forever.