CHAPTER 107: THE UNWELCOME REPLACEMENT
CHAPTER 107: THE UNWELCOME REPLACEMENT
CHAPTER 107: THE UNWELCOME REPLACEMENT
Aria stares at him, disbelief carving into her features, her hands lifting instinctively as if to physically push the absurdity of the moment away from her. “Are you serious right now?” she whispers, the words trembling from her lips, low and sharp, an effort to keep her voice contained even as her chest heaves with the urge to scream.
Her eyes flick to the woman standing across the room, still moving with an unsettling calm, her attention wandering over the contours of the house, the corners, the walls, the details, as though she were cataloging the space for herself. That unnerving calm only sharpens Aria’s agitation. She reaches for Dominic, grabbing his wrist in a sudden rush, tugging him toward the far end of the living room, needing distance, needing answers.
Dominic allows himself to be pulled, though his eyes narrow faintly, his lips pressing together in a mixture of curiosity and restraint. When she stops and spins on him, her gaze fierce, he tilts his head. “What is it?” he asks, his voice maddeningly casual, as though none of this has any weight, as though her reaction is a mystery that doesn’t warrant concern.
Aria can’t believe the audacity of it. Her voice lashes out before she can temper it. “What is going on? Who is she, and what is she doing here?” The edge in her tone cuts clean, her words brimming with disbelief that this situation is even happening.
Dominic blinks once, then looks back over his shoulder as if he needs to check who she’s referring to, before his attention returns to her. He shrugs, the motion so infuriatingly careless it sets her blood boiling. “I don’t know. She’s my co-worker. A co-bodyguard. What about it?” His voice is too smooth, too indifferent, and it grates against every nerve in her body.
Aria scoffs, a sharp sound that escapes before she can stop it. She folds her arms tightly across her chest, her body shifting a step backward as if creating a barricade between them. “Hell no. You can’t deceive me. Don’t think I’m stupid, and don’t think I’m a child. I have never seen her before. There is no way she’s a worker here. You’re the one who brought her. So what is she doing here?” Her voice climbs with each word, her body trembling, anger wrapping tighter around her bones.
Heat surges through her veins, her heart racing so violently she feels her pulse in her throat. She can’t explain the rage climbing inside her, but she knows it isn’t just confusion. Something inside whispers that this woman’s presence is wrong, dangerous, unacceptable. Dominic bringing her here feels like a violation, and her body reacts like it is betrayal itself. Every nerve sparks with resistance, a scream that insists she cannot allow this.
“What is the meaning of this, Dominic?” Her voice cracks with fury. “What is she doing here? She has no purpose here. Do you think my dad is going to be happy if you keep bringing strangers into our home?” Her words lash like a whip, her breath fast and hot, her fists clenching at her sides.
But Dominic only looks at her as if she is speaking a foreign language, his expression cool, unimpressed, untouched by the heat blazing in hers. He exhales through his nose, scoffing lightly, and then rolls his eyes. His arms fold across his chest, mirroring her stance but with mocking detachment, and he pivots slightly, turning back toward the woman who now glances their way.
“Vera,” he calls, his voice smooth, casual, practiced.
Her head turns immediately, a brisk smile flashing across her lips. Their exchange is wordless but loaded, a signal that cuts straight through Aria.
Dominic walks toward her, unhurried, his stride steady, deliberate. And with every step, Aria feels her chest constricting. The casualness of his movements, the way his attention shifts away from her as if she is nothing but background noise, sears into her.
When his hand reaches Vera’s, the contact is effortless, practiced. He threads his fingers through hers, their hands entwining with a certainty that makes Aria’s stomach twist. Her eyes drop to their joined hands, staring at the interlaced fingers, the familiarity of the gesture, the quiet intimacy. Something cold and heavy sinks inside her, spreading like lead in her veins. Her lips tremble, betraying her even as she tries to hold herself together. She forces herself to lift her gaze, to face them, though the dread coiling in her chest makes her breath shallow.
Dominic inhales deeply, his chest rising, and when he looks back at Aria, he smiles—not the distant, casual mask he had worn before, but something lighter, almost pleased. He squeezes Vera’s hand lightly, then speaks with deliberate calm. “Yeah, well. I’ve actually been thinking about how to tell you this for quite a long time, but I guess now is the perfect moment.” He gestures faintly toward Vera with their joined hands. “Meet Vera. She is my girlfriend.”
The word detonates inside Aria. Girlfriend. It slams into her like a fist, her body stumbling half a step before she catches herself, regaining balance by sheer force. Her eyes blink rapidly, the motion frantic, her throat tightening as though the air itself has turned solid.
No. No, he’s just joking. He has to be joking. There’s no way this is the truth. Her mind claws desperately for denial, trying to rearrange his words into something that makes sense, but nothing fits. Grinding her teeth, she looks away, searching the walls, the floor, anything to escape the weight of the declaration.
But Dominic doesn’t stop. His voice continues, steady, relentless. “Well, she is actually going to be replacing me for quite a while.” His tone is matter-of-fact, as if announcing a schedule change, not detonating the ground beneath her. He turns back to Vera with ease. “Vera, this is my boss’s daughter, okay? You know, I told you about the Castellanos. So she is the one we’re supposed to keep close watch on. This is the building. Your room is in my room, in the guest wing. I can show you whenever you’re ready.”
Aria’s eyes widen. The words slam into her like another blow. Her room is his room? Her thoughts spiral, colliding, impossible to settle. She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head tightly, as if she can physically eject the reality he is constructing. Her teeth grind together until her jaw aches. This cannot continue. None of this makes sense.
A low chuckle escapes her, sharp, hollow, filled with disbelief. She shakes her head again, faster now. “This is literally absurd, Dominic. My dad never permitted you to bring someone in to take over your position.” Her voice is firm, desperate, demanding the world right itself.
But Dominic doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t soften. He looks at her coolly, his expression steady. “Of course I can, okay? Just try to remember that your dad is actually my best friend, so yeah, there is no way in hell he would stop me from inviting my girlfriend over to focus and take care of my duties when it seems like I’m not available.”
Aria scoffs, the sound ragged, almost a laugh but jagged at the edges. She shakes her head hard, her body trembling with rage. “Really? And what makes you unavailable? Where are you going to go? What other job do you have apart from ensuring that I am safe?” Her voice rises with every word, reverberating off the walls of the vast house, the sound so sharp it seems to cut through the air itself.
Vera shifts, her eyes flicking from Aria to Dominic, surprise flickering across her face before a smirk blooms. She leans closer to him, lowering her voice just enough that Aria shouldn’t hear. “Oh my god, you’re right. She is so feisty,” she whispers, amusement lacing the words.
Dominic glances at her, his lips curving in a faint look that says, I told you so. Then his focus swings back to Aria, his expression hardening with weariness.
“Look,” he says, his tone edged with exasperation, “I’ve already had a lot. I have too much on my neck right now, okay? The workload is too much, and I don’t think I can keep handling this alone. So yeah, you’ll need to endure for a little bit. You’ll be seeing her a lot.”
The words hang in the air, final, immovable, slicing into the silence like a blade.