Aria's POV
I can't meet David.
The thought circles my mind all night, keeping me awake in Dominic's guest room. I stare at the ceiling and replay David's words over and over.
What you really witnessed. Every lie.
What does that mean?
By morning, I've made my decision. I have to go. I have to know what David knows, even if it means lying to Dominic.
Rule Five: No secrets.
I'm about to break the most important rule.
Dominic is already in the kitchen when I emerge, making coffee like this is normal. Like having me in his home is something we've done a hundred times instead of just one night.
"Sleep well?" he asks without looking up.
"Fine," I lie.
He knows I'm lying. I can see it in the tension of his shoulders. But he doesn't push.
"I have meetings all morning," he says. "You'll work from here today. Gabe's posted security in the lobby."
"I need to go out for lunch."
Now he looks at me. "No."
"Dominic—"
"Someone threatened me to get to you. You're not leaving this building without security." His voice is firm. "If you need something, I'll have it delivered."
I should tell him about David. About the meeting. About everything.
But something stops me. Some instinct that says if Dominic knows, he'll lock me down completely. And I'll never get answers.
"Fine," I say quietly.
His eyes narrow, but he nods.
The morning drags. I answer emails, organize files, make calls. All while watching the clock creep toward 2 PM.
At 1:30, I tell Gabe I'm getting lunch from the building's cafe.
"I'll escort you," he offers.
"It's literally three floors down."
"Dominic's orders."
I force a smile. "Can I at least go to the bathroom alone, or is that against the rules too?"
Gabe's expression softens. "Go. But straight there and back."
I nod and head for the elevator.
Then I keep going. Past the cafe. Through the service entrance. Out the back door where deliveries come.
No security. No cameras. Just me and the alley and my racing heart.
I run.
The coffee shop is fifteen minutes away. I know I don't have much time before someone notices I'm gone. Before Dominic realizes I've broken his trust.
But I have to know.
The shop looks exactly like it did three years ago. Same tables, same menu board, same smell of coffee and cinnamon. This is where David proposed, getting down on one knee right by the window seat.
He's already there, sitting in that exact spot.
When I walk in, he looks up, and my breath catches.
He's changed. The David I knew was soft, kind, always smiling. This David is harder. Sharper. His eyes are cold as they sweep over me.
"You came," he says.
"You didn't give me much choice."
"Sit."
I slide into the chair across from him, my hands clenched in my lap. Up close, I can see the changes more clearly. Fine lines around his eyes. A tension in his jaw that was never there before.
"You look good," he says. "Better than the last time I saw you."
The last time he saw me was in court, when he sat in the gallery and watched them convict me. He didn't speak up. Didn't defend me. Just watched.
"What do you want, David?"
He leans back, studying me like I'm a puzzle. "I want to understand why you're working for Dominic Cross. Of all the people in LA, why him?"
"He gave me a job when no one else would."
"Bullshit." David's voice is sharp. "You're too smart to think that's all this is. Cross doesn't hire people out of charity. So what's he really after?"
My heart pounds. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't lie to me, Ari. I know you too well." He leans forward. "Cross has been investigating Marcus Vaughn for years. And now suddenly you—the only witness to Vaughn killing his wife—are working as Cross's personal assistant? That's not coincidence."
The air leaves my lungs. "How do you know about Dominic's investigation?"
David's smile is cold. "Because I'm Vaughn's attorney. I know everything."
The words hit like a slap.
"So it's true," I whisper. "You're working for the man who destroyed me."
"I'm working for a client. That's all."
"He framed me for murder!"
"Did he?" David tilts his head. "Or did you witness something you didn't fully understand and jump to conclusions?"
My hands shake. "I saw him. I saw him standing over his wife's body with Sienna—"
"Sienna was there?" David's voice sharpens. "You never mentioned that in your testimony."
Because I didn't. Because by the time I went to trial, I was so broken and confused I couldn't remember what I'd said and what I'd kept back.
"Why does it matter?" I demand.
David is quiet for a long moment. Then he pulls out his phone and shows me a photo.
It's a crime scene. Mrs. Vaughn's body. But the angle is different from any photo I saw during the trial.
"Notice anything?" David asks.
I study it, my photographic memory kicking in. Then I see it.
The blood pattern is wrong. In this photo, the blood pools to the left. In the photos from my trial, it pooled to the right.
"This is a different scene," I breathe.
"This is the real scene. From the actual crime. The photos you saw in court were staged." David's eyes bore into mine. "Someone moved the body before the police arrived, Ari. Someone created a second crime scene that matched the evidence they planted against you."
My mind is spinning. "Who? Why?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." He leans closer. "But here's what I do know—Vaughn didn't kill his wife. Someone else did. And they used both of you—you and Vaughn—as cover."
"That's impossible. I saw—"
"You saw what someone wanted you to see." David's voice is urgent now. "Think, Ari. Really think about that night. What happened before you walked into that room?"
I close my eyes and force myself back.
Three years ago. Late evening. I was delivering contracts to Vaughn's mansion. The housekeeper let me in, said Vaughn was in his study...
"The housekeeper," I whisper. "She was new. I'd never seen her before."
"And you never saw her again, did you? She disappeared right after your arrest."
My eyes snap open. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've been investigating this case on my own for two years." David's expression is intense. "Something about your conviction never sat right with me. So I started digging. And the more I dug, the more I realized you were telling the truth."
Tears burn my eyes. "Then why didn't you help me? Why did you leave?"
Pain flashes across his face. "Because I was scared, Ari. Scared and stupid and young. By the time I realized I'd made a mistake, you were gone. Disappeared." He reaches across the table but doesn't quite touch me. "I've been looking for you for six months. And then suddenly you surface, working for Cross. Do you understand how dangerous that is?"
"Dominic is protecting me."
"Cross is using you as bait to draw out Vaughn." David's voice rises. "He doesn't care about you, Ari. He cares about revenge for his mother."
"His mother?"
"Dr. Evelyn Cross. Vaughn's previous attorney before me. She died five years ago in what was ruled a home invasion." David's eyes are hard. "But Cross thinks Vaughn had her killed. And now he's going to use you to prove it, even if it gets you killed in the process."
My phone buzzes. A text from Dominic:
Where are you?
"I have to go," I say, standing.
"Ari, wait—"
"Why should I believe you? You abandoned me. You work for Vaughn. You could be lying about all of this."
"I could be," David admits. "But ask yourself—if I'm lying, why would I warn you about Cross? Why would I tell you to run?"
"Are you? Telling me to run?"
He stands, and for a moment, I see the old David. The one who loved me.
"I'm telling you to be careful who you trust. Because someone is playing a very long game, and you're a piece on the board." He pulls out a business card and presses it into my hand. "When you're ready for the whole truth, call me. I'll tell you everything."
I'm backing toward the door when he calls out one more time.
"Ari? That night at Vaughn's mansion—you said you saw Sienna there. Are you absolutely certain it was her?"
"Yes. She was my best friend. I'd know her anywhere."
Something changes in David's expression. Fear, maybe. Or recognition.
"Then you need to know something else," he says quietly. "Sienna Hart died two years ago. Car accident in San Francisco. I went to her funeral."
The world tilts.
"That's impossible. I saw her photo. Just yesterday. In a magazine—"
"What magazine?"
I try to remember, but my mind is blank with panic.
David pulls out his phone and shows me an obituary. Sienna Marie Hart. Dead at 27. Survived by her parents and fiancé.
"If you saw Sienna yesterday," David says, his voice shaking, "then either she faked her death, or someone is impersonating her. Either way..."
He doesn't finish. He doesn't have to.
Either way, nothing about my past is what I thought it was.
I run from the coffee shop, my mind spinning. I'm three blocks away when a black SUV pulls up beside me.
The window rolls down.
Dominic's face is ice cold.
"Get in the car, Aria."
His voice promises consequences I can't even imagine.
I get in.
We drive in silence for exactly thirty seconds. Then Dominic speaks, each word precise and deadly.
"You broke Rule Five. You kept secrets. You put yourself in danger." He doesn't look at me. "Give me one reason I shouldn't drive you back to that alley and leave you there."
"David says you're using me as bait."
"I am."
The casual admission steals my breath.
"He says you don't care if I die, as long as you get Vaughn."
"Also true."
Tears stream down my face. "Then why save me at all?"
Finally, Dominic looks at me. And what I see in his eyes isn't cold calculation.
It's rage. And fear. And something darker I can't name.
"Because somewhere between saving you and owning you, I made a mistake," he says quietly. "I started to care whether you live or die. And that makes you the most dangerous thing in my world."
The SUV pulls into an underground garage I don't recognize.
"Where are we?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere David can't find you. Somewhere I can keep you locked down until I figure out who's really hunting you." He cuts the engine and turns to face me fully. "Because you're right about one thing, Aria. Someone is playing a very long game. And we just found out the queen on the board is supposed to be dead."
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
We both look at it.
The message makes my blood run cold:
Poor Ari. Still doesn't know who her real friends are. But don't worry, darling. I'll see you soon. We have so much to discuss. -S
Below it, a photo.
Of me and David.
Taken twenty minutes ago.
At the coffee shop.
From inside the shop.
Someone was there. Watching. Listening.
Dominic's jaw tightens as he reads it.
"S," he says. "Sienna."
"But she's dead. David showed me—"
"David showed you what someone wanted him to see." Dominic pulls out his phone and makes a call. "Gabe. I need a full workup on Sienna Hart. Death certificate, autopsy, funeral records. Everything. And I need it five minutes ago."
He hangs up and looks at me.
"If Sienna is alive, then everything we thought we knew is wrong. The murder. The frame job. Everything." His hand clenches around the steering wheel. "And if she's been alive this whole time, watching you suffer while she lived your life..."
He doesn't finish.
He doesn't have to.
Because we're both thinking the same thing:
If Sienna is alive, then the real nightmare is just beginning.