Chapter 54 Trapped Together
The mansion became a fortress.
Armed guards at every entrance. Security cameras in every hallway. Bulletproof glass installed on all windows. The elegant prison transformed into an actual one.
Lily handled it with typical teenage resilience, setting up a art studio in one of the unused rooms. Claire started baking again, the mansion’s kitchen finally put to use. Aiden worked remotely, managing Frost Industries from his father’s study while lawyers prepared for trial.
And Ariella tried to find purpose in the waiting.
She started writing everything down. The whole story, from the contract to now. Not for publication, just to make sense of how they’d gotten here. How a desperate arrangement had become love had become war.
Two weeks into lockdown, Patricia Moreno called.
“I’m going into protective custody,” she said without preamble. “FBI convinced me. Too many threats.”
“I’m sorry. This is my fault…”
“Stop. This is Winters’ fault. You just made it public.” Patricia paused. “But I wanted to thank you. Before I disappear for however long. Thank you for fighting. For not letting him win quietly.”
“We haven’t won yet.”
“But you haven’t lost either. And for people like us, victims’ families that matters. Knowing someone cares enough to fight.”
After she hung up, Ariella found Aiden on the roof, the one place security allowed them outside.
“Patricia’s going into custody,” she told him.
“Probably smart.”
“Do you ever regret it? The media dump?”
He thought about it. “Every day. And never. Both at the same time.”
“That’s confusing.”
“Everything about this is confusing.” He pulled her close. “But I don’t regret you. Whatever mistakes we made, whatever consequences we’re facing, I don’t regret choosing you.”
“Even though I’m the reason you’re trapped in your own house?”
“Even then.”
They stood on the roof watching the city they couldn’t access, living a life on pause, waiting for a trial that might never come.
“Eight months,” Ariella said.
“We can do eight months.”
“Can we?”
“We survived everything else. We’ll survive this too.”
That night, Ariella had a nightmare.
She was in the courtroom, testifying. But when she looked at the defendant’s table, it wasn’t Winters sitting there. It was Ethan. And he was asking why she hadn’t saved him. Why she’d been too scared, too slow, too late.
She woke up screaming.
Aiden was there immediately, holding her, grounding her.
“It was just a dream. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“He’s never going to pay,” she sobbed. “Is he? We’ve done everything, spoken up, provided evidence, made it public, and he’s still free. Still terrorizing people. Still winning.”
“He’s not winning. His empire is crumbling. His reputation is destroyed. Even if he doesn’t go to prison, we’ve taken everything else.”
“That’s not justice.”
“No. But it’s something.”
Ariella wanted to argue. Wanted to rage against the unfairness of a system that protected people like Winters while victims’ families waited and hoped and suffered.
But she was too tired.
So she just held onto Aiden and tried to believe that eight months from now, when the trial finally happened, it would all be worth it.
That justice was coming.
That they’d survive to see it.