Chapter 119: The Candle and the Cage

“Happy Birthday Norah!”

The shout came from twenty different people at once. It was loud, cheerful, and completely terrifying.

Aria froze in the doorway of the VernBuilds main conference room. Confetti popped, raining down little strips of gold and silver paper onto her hair and shoulders. Balloons were floating everywhere, bobbing against the high ceiling. A massive banner was draped across the glass wall overlooking the city skyline. It read “Happy Birthday to Our Project Manager” in big, bold red letters.

For a second, Aria couldn't breathe. She gripped the strap of her handbag so tight that her fingers hurt. She looked at the faces of the staff. There was Anna, her Personal Assistant, clapping her hands with a wide, genuine grin. There were the junior architects, the site managers, the interns. They were all smiling at her. They looked at her with admiration. They looked at her like she was a hero.

But she wasn't a hero. She wasn't even Norah.

“Surprise!” Anna squealed, rushing forward. She was holding a party hat, looking like she wanted to put it on Aria’s head but was too respectful to actually do it. “We got you! You didn't suspect a thing, did you?”

Aria forced the corners of her mouth to lift. She had practiced this smile in the mirror a thousand times. It was the smile of a humble, happy woman. Not the smile of a spy who was drowning in secrets.

“I… I had no idea,” Aria said, her voice trembling just enough to sound emotional. “Anna, what is all this?”

“It’s for you, Miss Norah,” Anna said, beaming. “Mr. Gerry called me personally yesterday. He said that since he couldn't be here because of his health retreat, he wanted to make sure his star employee was celebrated properly. He organized everything. The catering, the cake, the bonus checks for the staff in your honor. He said you deserve the world.”

Aria felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the office air conditioning.

Marcus.

Of course. This wasn't a party. It was a message. It was Marcus telling her, “Good girl. You did what I told you. You slept with the enemy. Here is your treat.”

It made her sick to her stomach. The cake sitting on the center table—a massive, three-tiered vanilla creation with white frosting—looked like poison. Marcus thought she had compromised herself with Norman Malcovich two weeks ago. He thought she had given her body to the old man to secure the deal. He didn't know she had switched places with Emily. He didn't know it was Emily who had paid the price while Aria hid in the shadows.

“Mr. Gerry is very generous,” one of the site managers said, walking up to shake her hand. He was a nice man named Robert, with calloused hands and honest eyes. “But honestly, Miss Norah, you earned this. Since you came back, the Horizon Project has been moving at lightning speed. You have a vision. We were lost without you.”

“Thank you, Robert,” Aria said softly. She took his hand. His grip was warm and firm. He believed in her. He believed in the lie.

“Come on, cut the cake!” Anna urged, handing Aria a long silver knife.

Aria walked to the table. The staff gathered around, clapping rhythmically. Cut the cake. Cut the cake.

She looked down at the white frosting. In the center, written in elegant cursive, was the name Norah.

She hated that name. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw the knife through the window. But she couldn't. She had to play the part. She had to be the good little puppet.

She sliced into the cake. The knife went in smoothly. The staff cheered. Someone popped a bottle of champagne.

“Speech! Speech!” someone shouted from the back.

Aria put the knife down. Her hands were shaking, so she clasped them in front of her waist to hide it. She looked around the room at the happy faces.

“I don't know what to say,” Aria began, her voice gaining a little strength. “When I started here... when I came to this city... I didn't expect to find a family. But that is what you all are. You work hard. You build dreams out of steel and concrete. And I am just lucky to be the one holding the blueprints.”

“We love you Norah!” a young intern shouted.

Aria’s heart twisted. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you all.”

She accepted a glass of champagne. She took a small sip. It tasted expensive. Another gift from Marcus. Another reminder that he owned her.

For the next hour, she was trapped. She had to smile. She had to laugh at jokes. She had to accept small gifts from the staff—a mug, a scarf, a framed photo of the team. Every moment felt like a lie.

Finally, the party started to wind down. People went back to their desks, high on sugar and morale. Anna came up to Aria, holding a sleek black box.

“This one arrived by private courier this morning,” Anna said, her voice hushed. “It’s from Mr. Gerry directly. He said you should open it alone.”

Aria took the box. It was heavy. It felt cold.

“Thank you, Anna. I’ll… I’ll take this to my office.”

“Of course. Happy birthday, Miss Norah. You really are the best boss I’ve ever had.”

Aria nodded, unable to speak. She turned and walked quickly down the hallway to her private office. She went inside and shut the door, locking it immediately.

She leaned against the heavy wood, closing her eyes. The silence of the office was a relief, but it was also suffocating. She was alone with the black box.

She walked to her desk and placed the box on the glass surface. She stared at it. What was inside? A threat? A reward?

She lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a diamond necklace. It was simple, elegant, and worth more than most people made in a year. Underneath the necklace was a small, cream-colored card.

Aria picked up the card. Her fingers trembled. She recognized the handwriting. Sharp. Angular. Marcus.

The note was short.

“To my most valuable asset. You have proven your loyalty. The merger is secure. Norman is happy. Enjoy your day. We will discuss the next phase soon. - M”

Aria dropped the card like it was burning her skin.

Norman is happy.

The words echoed in her mind. Norman was happy because he thought he had used her. He thought he had broken Ethan’s fiancée. But he had broken Emily.

Aria squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the image of Emily’s face the last time she saw her. Emily hadn't spoken to her in two weeks. She had vanished into the slums, refusing to see her. Emily was carrying the weight of Aria’s sin.

And Marcus… Marcus was waiting.

We will discuss the next phase soon.

He hadn't asked for the information yet. He hadn't asked for the secrets she was supposed to have stolen from Norman during their "night" together. He was giving her space, letting her feel safe, letting her think she had won a reprieve. But Aria knew better. Marcus was a businessman. He had paid for the goods—with this party, with this necklace, with his trust—and soon, he would want the receipt.

He would ask for the files. He would ask for the blackmail material on Norman.

And Aria had nothing.

She hadn't slept with Norman. She hadn't whispered in his ear and gotten his secrets. She hadn't accessed his safe. She had spent that night making love to Ethan in the next room, while her best friend suffered in her place.

When Marcus asked, and Aria had nothing to give him, he would know she lied. He would know she played him. And then… then he would kill her. Or worse, he would kill Ethan.

She needed a plan. She needed information. Real information. Information that would satisfy Marcus and keep him away from her and Ethan.

She looked out the window at the city below. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. It was beautiful, but it felt like the sun was setting on her life.

Her phone buzzed on the desk.

Aria jumped. She looked at the screen.

My Love.

It was Ethan.

Aria let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The tension in her shoulders eased just a fraction. She picked up the phone and swiped the answer button.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

Ethan’s voice was warm, deep, and rough with exhaustion. He sounded like home.

“Ethan,” Aria whispered. Just saying his name made her eyes sting with tears.

“I wish I was there,” Ethan said. The connection was a video call, and his face filled her screen. He was in a hotel room in Tokyo. It was late there, or maybe early morning. He was still wearing his dress shirt, but the top buttons were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, but his smile was bright when he looked at her.

“I wish you were here too,” Aria said honestly. “The office threw a party. There was cake. Confetti.”

“Did you save me a piece?” Ethan asked, teasing.

“I tried,” Aria laughed, a weak sound. “But Anna takes cake very seriously. I think it’s all gone.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m glad they celebrated you. You deserve it, Norah. You’ve been working so hard. Even my father… he mentioned you on the call today.”

Aria froze. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He asked how you were doing. Said he was impressed with how you handled the gala. Said you have… spirit.” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Coming from Norman Malcovich, that’s high praise. Usually, he just grunts.”

Aria felt cold. Norman was playing the game too. He was taunting her from a distance.

“That’s… nice of him,” Aria managed to say.

“Listen,” Ethan said, his voice turning serious. “I’m wrapping up the deal here. The Japanese investors are tough, but they’re signing tomorrow morning. I’m catching the first flight out. I’ll be back on Friday night.”

“Friday,” Aria repeated. That was two days away.

“I hate missing your actual birthday,” Ethan said, his face falling. “I feel terrible. I bought you a gift, but it’s not the same as being there to hold you.”

“Your voice is the best gift, Ethan,” Aria said. “Really. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too. God, Norah, I miss you so much. This hotel room is huge and empty without you. I keep reaching for you in the middle of the night.”

Aria’s heart ached. “Me too.”

“So,” Ethan said, his tone brightening a little. “Since I missed the big day, I want the weekend to be perfect. Whatever you want. Wherever you want to go. Just name it. Paris? We can take the jet. A secluded island? A spa weekend? You tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

Aria looked at the diamond necklace on her desk. She looked at the card from Marcus.

We will discuss the next phase soon.

She needed the files. She needed the leverage. And she knew where they were.

She remembered the house. The Old Estate. The place Ethan had taken her months ago, back when she was first getting close to him. When he proposed to her officially. It was a massive, gothic mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was where Ethan had grown up, before his mother died, before Norman became completely cold.

Ethan hated that house but still kept the house because it gave him memories. He called it a mausoleum. But Aria remembered something else about it.

When she was there, she had slipped away. She had found a hidden study. She had seen files. Old files. Files with the VernBuilds logo and the Malcovich seal from twenty years ago. Files that proved the corruption went back decades.

That was when Marcus had caught her. That was the night everything went wrong. Marcus had found her in that house, snooping without giving him better evidence. He told her to scan those files and discard but Aria proved stubborn. He had beaten her. He had locked her away in the slums for months to "retrain" her. He had punished her for trying to go rogue.

But the files… she never got them. She had seen them, but she hadn't taken them.

If they were still there… if she could get them… she could give them to Marcus. She could say, “Here. This is what I found. This is the proof.” It would buy her freedom. It would save her from having to produce evidence from her fake night with Norman.

But she had to get back inside. And the only person who could take her there without raising suspicion was Ethan.

“Norah? Are you there?” Ethan asked, watching her face on the screen.

Aria snapped back to reality. “I’m here. I’m just… thinking.”

“Thinking about Paris?” Ethan grinned.

“No,” Aria said slowly. “Not Paris. I don't want to go far. I just want… I want to be with you. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that means something to you.”

Ethan looked confused. “Okay. Like the penthouse?”

“No,” Aria said. She took a deep breath. She had to do this. She had to use his love to manipulate him again. It made her feel like dirt, but she had no choice.

“Ethan, do you remember that day… months ago? Before everything went crazy? You took me to a house. An old house outside the city.”

Ethan’s smile faded. A shadow passed over his eyes. “The Old Estate?”

“Yes,” Aria said. “That one.”

“Norah, why would you want to go there?” Ethan asked, his voice dropping. “It’s dusty. It’s gloomy. I haven’t been there since… since I took you. It’s just a tomb of bad memories.”

“Not for me,” Aria lied. “For me, it’s where I first realized… how much deeper you are. You opened up to me there. You told me about your mother. You showed me the boy behind the billionaire.”

She leaned closer to the phone screen, making her eyes look soft and pleading.

“I want to know everything about you, Ethan. I want to see where you came from. I want to understand the things that made you who you are. That house… it feels like a missing piece of the puzzle. I want to go back there. Just us. No staff. No gala. No cameras.”

Ethan hesitated. She could see the conflict in his face. He kind of hated that house. But he loved Aria. And right now, he felt guilty for missing her birthday. He wanted to give her whatever she asked for.

“It’s not exactly a romantic getaway,” Ethan warned. “The heating is old. The furniture is covered in sheets.”

“I don't care about the furniture,” Aria said. “I care about you. I want to be close to you. And I feel like… if we go there, we can leave the world behind for a few days. Just you and me in a big, quiet house.”

Ethan looked at her for a long moment. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You really want to go there? To that dusty old museum?”

“Yes,” Aria said firmly. “It’s my birthday wish.”

Ethan smiled a small, resigned smile. He couldn't say no to her. Not when she looked at him like that.

“Okay,” Ethan said. “If that’s what you want, baby. We’ll go to the Old Estate. I’ll have the cleaners go in tomorrow to prepare a room so we don't freeze to death.”

“No,” Aria said quickly. “No cleaners. I don't want anyone else there. We can light a fire. It will be romantic. Please, Ethan. Just us.”

She couldn't risk cleaners finding the files. Or moving them.

Ethan laughed softly. “You are crazy. But I love you. Fine. No cleaners. Just us, a fireplace, and a lot of blankets.”

“Thank you,” Aria whispered.

“I have to run, Norah. The investors are waiting for dinner. But I’ll see you Friday. I’ll pick you up from Solara Heights.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Aria said.

“I love you, birthday girl.”

“I love you too.”

The screen went black. The connection ended.

Aria sat there in the silence of her office. The room was getting dark. The diamond necklace glittered coldly on the desk.

She had done it. She had secured the location.

She leaned back in her leather chair, staring at the ceiling. Her heart was pounding. She was going back to the place where her nightmare began. She was going back to the place where she disobeyed Marcus.

But this time, she wasn't going as a lady in fear. She was going as the mistress of the house.

If those files contained what she thought they did—proof of Norman’s illegal dealings, proof of money laundering, proof of the hit ordered on her father’s company—then she would have power. Real power.

She could give Marcus a taste, enough to keep him happy. And maybe, just maybe, she could keep enough for herself to finally hold a knife to Norman’s throat without sleeping with him.

Aria stood up. She walked over to the window and looked at her reflection in the glass. She looked tired. She looked older than she was.

“Happy birthday to me,” she whispered bitterly.

She grabbed her purse and the black box with the necklace. She couldn't leave it there. She had to wear it. She had to wear the chain Marcus put around her neck so he would think she was still his obedient dog.

She walked out of the office, past the empty desks of her staff. The balloons were still floating against the ceiling, looking like colorful ghosts. The banner still screamed Happy Birthday.

She walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. As the doors slid shut, she made a silent vow.

This weekend will be the end of it. She would get the files. She would secure her safety.

Aria tightened her grip on the black box.

Hold on, Ethan, she thought. Just a little longer.

She walked out of the building and into the waiting car. The driver opened the door.

“Home, Miss Norah?”

“Yes,” Aria said.

She settled into the seat. Friday. Friday was the day.