Chapter 118: The Shadows of Solara
Ethan's Maybach stopped at Solara Heights. The engine hummed quietly, a low vibration that Aria felt through the soles of her heels. The car was a sanctuary, a bubble of warmth and expensive leather that separated them from the cold reality of the night outside. It was already 10pm in the night. The city lights reflected on the tinted windows, looking like distant stars that couldn't reach them.
Aria sat there for a moment, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on her shoulders. She felt heavy. Her body was still humming from the time she spent with Ethan in that private room, but her mind was racing with the lies she had told and the things she had done. She looked at Ethan. He looked tired but happy. His tie was loose around his neck, and there was a softness in his eyes that broke her heart. He thought everything was perfect.
Ethan leaned over, his hand cupping her cheek gently. His thumb brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You were amazing tonight, Norah," Ethan whispered. "I don't know how I would have survived that event without you there with me."
Aria forced a smile. It felt stiff on her lips. "We make a good team, Ethan."
" The best team and not just team but best lovers baby," he corrected her. He leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't a hungry kiss like the one in the hotel room. It was soft. It was a promise. It was the kind of kiss that said I don't want to lose you.
She couldn't stay. If she stayed one more second, she might crack. She might tell him everything. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air hitting her bare arms and legs through the slit of her dress. The Maybach pulled away, its taillights fading into the darkness of the street. She watched it go until it turned the corner, leaving her alone on the pavement.
She turned towards the building. Solara Heights rose above her like a giant needle of glass and steel. It was beautiful, but tonight it looked cold. It looked like a fortress where she kept all her secrets.
As Aria was about entering into Solara Heights, she felt a sudden movement to her left. She didn't have time to react.
She was being dragged out by a hand to the corner where shadow lingered.
The grip was tight and desperate. Fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her arm, scratching her skin. Aria gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. For a second, she thought it was Marcus's men. She thought maybe she had been found out.
She stumbled in her high heels, trying to regain her balance. The person pulled her roughly into the darkness beside the building entrance, away from the bright lights of the lobby.
Immediately Aria checked who the person was, lo and behold it was Miriam and her mother.
The shock hit her first, then the absurdity of it. Miriam looked like a wreck. Her hair, which had been perfect at the gala, was now slightly messy. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. The bruise on her lip where Aria had slapped her two days back was dark and swollen. Beside her stood Hannah, her mother. Hannah looked even worse. Her expensive purple dress was wrinkled, and her face was twisted into a mask of pure, ugly rage.
They looked like two witches hiding in the dark, waiting to cast a spell. But they had no magic. They only had bitterness.
Aria was shocked and about to laugh at the scenario. It was pathetic. Two women from high society, lurking in the corner like common muggers.
“You waited for hours in the shadows just to pull this?” Aria said in a mocking tone. She pulled her arm free from Hannah's grip, brushing off her skin as if she had touched something dirty. She straightened her dress, looking at them with cold amusement. “Really? Is this what the great Dubois family has been reduced to? Hiding in the dark?”
Miriam looked down at her feet. She looked exhausted. She looked like she didn't want to be there.
“Mom, I told you that it's pointless talking with her here,” Miriam said, almost turning to leave. Her voice was weak. She had been humiliated enough for one night. She had been slapped in front of everyone, just two days ago at the Monarch restaurant. She had been kicked out by Ethan that night. She just wanted to go home and hide.
But Hannah was not done. Hannah was a woman who held onto power with her fingernails, even when it was slipping away. She grabbed Miriam’s arm, stopping her.
“Stop being so petty Miriam. This is the exact reason Ethan left you immediately he set his eyes on this devil,” Hannah said pointing at Aria and that made Miriam fold her hand into fist.
Hannah’s voice was shrill, cutting through the night air. She blamed everyone but herself. She blamed Miriam for not being pretty enough. She blamed Aria for existing. She looked at Aria with eyes full of hate.
“You think you have won, don't you?” Hannah spat. “You think because you wear a red dress and open your legs for him on a daily basis that you are the queen? You are trash. You are nothing. You are just a flavor of the month. You're nothing but a fake fiancee”
Miriam flinched at her mother’s words. It wasn't Aria hurting her now; it was her own mother.
“Mother, you don't have to humiliate me in front of Norah!” Miriam shouted.
The sound echoed off the glass walls of the building. The security guards of Solara Heights turned to see why they shouted. They stepped out of the lobby, hands on their belts, looking concerned. The bodyguards assigned to watch over Aria were watching too. They stood by the pillars, silent and imposing. They didn't interfere because they saw Aria was in control. They saw the look on her face. They knew she didn't need help to handle these two.
Aria giggled at the drama displaying in front of her as she said “Miriam, who's humiliating you in front of me?”
She laughed then continued. It was a cold, hard laugh. “You think I am the one making you look small? Look at your mother, Miriam. Look at how she speaks to you. She drags you into the dark corner at night to yell at me. I didn't do that. She did.”
“You have humiliated yourself already so many times,” Aria added, her voice dropping to a whisper that was even more cutting than a shout. “You let her push you around. You chase a man who doesn't want you. And now you are here, standing in the cold, looking desperate.”
Hearing that from Aria, Miriam felt like rushing towards Aria to attack. Her hands shook. The anger flared in her eyes. She took a step forward, raising her hand as if she wanted to return the slap Aria gave her the other day.
“Don't think of that, Miriam.”
Aria’s voice was steel. It wasn't the voice of Norah. It was the voice of an operative. “If you touch me again, the guards behind me will break your arm before you even make contact. And Ethan? He will destroy whatever is left of your life. Do you really want to test me tonight?”
Miriam stopped. She froze. She saw the truth in Aria’s eyes. She saw a darkness she didn't understand. Of course the Norah she knows is definitely in control of Ethan's life. She lowered her hand, defeated.
Aria turned her attention to Hannah. The older woman was fuming, her chest heaving up and down. Hannah opened her mouth to speak, probably to throw more insults, but Aria cut her off. She was done playing. She was tired. She wanted to go upstairs and wash the night off her skin. And she had one card left to play.
“Oh you mother Hannah you think I don't know you flirt and mess with Mr Norman just for his support on your dying family company?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
It was as if Aria had dropped a bomb on the sidewalk. Hannah’s mouth snapped shut. Her face, which had been red with anger, turned ghost white. Her eyes widened in sheer terror.
Miriam looked at Aria, then slowly turned her head to look at her mother.
“What?” Miriam whispered.
Aria smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. “Oh, you didn't know, Miriam? Your sweet mother. The one who judges everyone. She has been warming Norman Malcovich’s bed for years. Not for love. But for loans. For contracts. To keep your family from going bankrupt.”
Aria took a step closer to Hannah, lowering her voice. “You call me a whore, Hannah? You call me trash? At least I don't sell myself to save a sinking ship and then judge my daughter for failing to do the same.”
Saying that she turned and entered into the Solara Heights building.
She didn't look back. She didn't need to. The damage was done. She walked past the security guards, who nodded at her respectfully. She walked through the glass doors into the warm, golden light of the lobby.
Behind her, on the cold street, the world was falling apart for Miriam.
Miriam stood there, staring at her mother. The betrayal was worse than anything Aria could have done. All the pressure to marry Ethan. All the insults about not being good enough. It all made sense now. Her mother wasn't trying to help her; she was trying to cover up her own mess.
“Mom?” Miriam’s voice broke. “Is it true?”
Hannah couldn't speak. She was shaking. She clutched her purse to her chest, looking like a cornered animal. She looked at the guards who were watching her with pity. She looked at her daughter’s heartbroken face.
“Miriam, listen to me,” Hannah stammered. “It’s complicated. Business is complicated.”
“Is it true!” Miriam screamed, tears streaming down her face again.
Hannah didn't answer. She couldn't face the truth. She couldn't face her daughter. She turned around and walked away, stumbling slightly in her heels, leaving Miriam alone in the dark.
Miriam watched her mother leave. She felt empty. She looked at the tall building where Aria lived. She hated Aria. But at that moment, she hated her mother more.
Inside the lobby, Aria walked to the elevator. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn't happiness. It was the satisfaction of a surgeon cutting out a tumor. It was precise. It was necessary.
Immediately the elevator chimed reaching the highest floor where Aria lived.
The doors slid open smoothly. Aria stepped into her penthouse. The lights turned on automatically, sensing her presence. The air was cool and smelled of lavender. It was a stark contrast to the dirty feeling of the street below.
“Welcome home, Miss Norah,” the robotic voice of the house system said. “The temperature is set to your preference. Would you like some music?”
“No,” Aria said. “Silence. I want silence.”
She walked into the living room and kicked off her high heels. Her feet ached. She dropped her silver purse on the table. She didn't sit down. She couldn't sit down. Her body was vibrating with energy.
Aria was filled with anger and she liked it.
She was angry at Hannah. She was angry at Norman. She was angry at Marcus. But mostly, she was angry at the situation. But she used that anger. She channeled it. She needed to be angry to make the call she was about to make.
She needed Marcus to believe she had done it. She needed him to believe she was the cold-blooded weapon he wanted her to be. If he thought she was angry because the job was disgusting, he would believe her. If he thought she was broken, he would worry. But anger? Anger was useful.
Because it was a display to show Marcus that she had finally done what he wanted.
She paced around the room. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up the perfect waves. She needed to sound rough. She needed to sound like she had just been through hell.
Of course Marcus called immediately.
He was watching. He always watched. He had seen the GPS tracker on her phone leave the gala. He had seen her return home. He was waiting for the report.
The phone on the table buzzed. Marcus.
Aria stared at it for a second. She took a deep breath. She summoned every ounce of acting skill she had. She summoned the memory of Emily walking into that red room. She summoned the guilt and turned it into a performance.
The line was open. She could hear his breathing on the other end. It was a test. He wanted her to speak first. He wanted to hear the tone of her voice.
Aria understood the code. He was waiting for the confirmation. He wanted to know if the "package" had been delivered.
Aria closed her eyes. She pictured Norman’s face. She pictured the lie she was about to tell, the lie that would save her life and doom her soul a little bit more.
She spoke into the silence. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, dead.
“It’s done Marcus.”