Chapter 27: Chapter XXVII

The penthouse in Manhattan felt colder than Ariana remembered.

Not in temperature — but in presence.

She’d only been back for two days, but it was long enough for the silence to crawl under her skin and wrap around her like a shroud.

Ariana sat cross-legged on the velvet armchair near the window in her room, her hands tucked into the sleeves of one of Callum’s sweaters she’d packed without realizing. It still smelled faintly of his cologne — cedarwood and something sharper, husky, more masculine — and that only made the ache worse.

She held unto a chipped mug of coffee that had long since gone cold. The steam had vanished hours ago, but she hadn’t moved. Her laptop was still open on the coffee table, casting a dull glow on the carpet.

The headline haunted her.

The article was still open on her laptop. The headlines didn’t mention Callum’s name outright, but his club had been linked. Speculations filled the comment sections, old rumors reawakened like ghosts with unfinished business.

She wanted to believe he was innocent. That the Callum she had come to know — protective, strong, frustratingly kind— couldn’t be the same man in the shadows of that fire. But the cracks were spreading.

She blinked back the sting in her eyes.

Who was he, really?

She closed the laptop and set it aside, burying her face in her hands.

Had she been naive? Or was she just scared of knowing too much?

A soft knock on her door took her by surprise. She hesitated before opening it — one of Callum’s guards stood on the other side.

“Miss Ariana, just checking if you need anything.”

She shook her head with a polite smile. “Thank you, I’m doing okay.”

He gave a brief nod and stepped back.

As she shut the door, her phone vibrated again.

A new message.

“He’s not who you think he is. Be smart, Ariana.”

She sank onto the bed, gripping the phone tightly, her heart pounding. The messages had gone from ominous to invasive. Someone was watching. Someone knew where she was.

Why was she still here?

Because despite everything — the secrets, the constant feeling of danger, the fear of the unknown— her heart still pulled toward Callum.

She had tried to push it down. She had tried to tell herself that what they had was transactional and had an expiry date. A means to an end. A cover for the world.

But behind closed doors, when he looked at her like she mattered… when he touched her like she was fragile but unbreakable… the lines between fake and reality began to blur.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them away.

She wouldn’t fall apart.

Not now. Not yet.

She stood and walked to the window, staring out at the Manhattan skyline. The same city that had swallowed her dreams and spit out a girl she barely recognized. But she was still standing. She always would.

Her phone buzzed again. She half expected it to be another anonymous message but this time it was a simple text from Julian’s number:

“Callum’s on his way. He will be with you shortly. Sit tight.”

She stared at the message, unsure how to respond — unsure if she wanted to.

Part of her longed for him. Craved the steady certainty in his voice, the commanding way he made the world feel smaller, quieter, safer. But another part... feared what she didn’t know.

Why hadn’t he just told her?

Were they right about who they said he was?”

Why did everything feel like a secret wrapped in luxury and whispered in the dark?

She stood and crossed to the bathroom, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to see the girl with the tangled hair and tired eyes. The girl who was still reeling from every new version of the man she thought she was getting to know.

The tears came hot and fast — not loud, just steady.

She hated this. Hated how her chest ached from not knowing what was real.

And yet, when she pressed her palms against the counter and whispered to herself, it wasn’t “I’m done” that came out. It was:

“I just need him to tell me the truth.”

Behind her, the phone buzzed again.

This time it was from the hospital. Her sister’s final pre-op scan had cleared. Surgery was confirmed for tomorrow. It was the good news she needed for this storm.

But even good news didn’t land right in this silence.

She walked back into the living room and sat up on the couch, clutching her phone to her chest. For the first time in days, the apartment felt too uncomfortable. Too quiet. And she hated that Callum's absence carved that emptiness deeper.

When the knock finally came on the door — a sharp, deliberate knock — her heart jumped.

But it wasn’t him.

It was the security guard Callum had assigned to her.

“Miss Ariana,” he said politely. “Just wanted to let you know Mr. Guerrero has just landed. He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

She gave a small nod, lips pressed tight. ‘’Alright, thank you.”

He left with a slight bow of his head.

Ariana closed the door slowly, locking it behind her. Her hands trembled.

Callum was coming.

And she didn’t know if she wanted to run into his arms… or demand he explain every last thing he’d been hiding.