Chapter 17
ALICIA
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I cracked the door open, just enough to see the hallway. My heart wasn’t racing. It should have been, but it wasn’t. Instead, there was a curious stillness inside me…. like a deep breath held underwater, watching someone else drown.
From the narrow slit, I saw the manager of the hotel approaching, flanked by two uniformed guards. Damien stood tall, arms folded, jaw tense.
“This woman,” he said, nodding toward Diana without even looking at her. “Give her another room. Not on this floor. In fact, make it as far away as possible. I don’t want her near here.”
Her voice cracked with desperation. “Damien, please… my things are in there. My son, Jeff is in there….”
He raised a hand to silence her, and then, without a word, turned, strode into her room, and returned moments later with her overnight bag dangling from one hand like it was soaked in filth. He tossed it toward her feet.
“Your son is in there,” he said coldly. “And you dare call yourself a mother. I’ve seen the way you treat Jeff- neglect is a soft word for it. And now this? Attacking my assistant in the hallway like a lunatic?”
The guards shifted at his signal.
“Escort her out. Give her a room. Any room. And put it on my bill. But I don’t want to see her again—not tonight, not tomorrow. Not on this floor.”
“Damien,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please, listen to me….”
But he had already turned his back.
The guards didn’t yank her. They didn’t need to. Her legs were unsteady. The shame carried her away more forcefully than any grip could have.
I closed the door.
Turned the lock.
And smiled.
“Well, well, Diana,” I whispered, pacing slowly back to the bed. “What now? What would you even say to him? Oh Damien, don’t trust your assistant. Her name is Alicia. She’s back from prison and she’s dangerous.”
I snorted,
If she tried to tell him who I was, she would open the vault on everything she had spent years burying. That was the beauty of it. Her silence wasn’t loyalty–it was fear.
She knew what she’d done. She ruined my life back then and took my granny from me, and to expose me
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Chapter 17
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would mean exposing herself too. Her lies weren’t just about me–they were the foundation of the empire she was clinging to. If one thread unraveled, the whole fabric would fall.
So she would stay quiet.
Because silence was the last thing she had control over.
Still, something gnawed at me, something I couldn’t quite place. When she’d seen me, the look in her eyes wasn’t just fear–it was panic. The kind that digs into the soul. There was something more. I could feel it, and my instincts were never wrong.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, towel still folded in my hand, and let my fingers brush the embroidered fabric.
Why was she so terrified?
Even if I told Damien everything–that she orchestrated my imprisonment, paid people to make me blind, left me to rot while pregnant–it wouldn’t guarantee he’d believe me. Or forgive me. In the end, she was the mother of his child and that in itself was stronger that so many other things.
So why did she still look like she was standing on the edge of a cliff?
I pulled my knees up, resting my chin lightly on them.
Perhaps it didn’t matter. Whether she knew I was Alicia or thought I was someone new, the power I held over her now was the same. As long as I kept up the game, she would be too afraid to challenge me. Because in exposing me, she exposes herself.
“Go on then, Diana,” I murmured. “Try to scream my name. Try to tell him who I am. Let’s see how it goes.”
I stood, walked to the mirror, and stared into my reflection. “But even if you succeed–even if he finds out the truth–I’ll make sure he never looks at you again. You’ll lose him. And that, my dear, will be the final page of your story.”
I turned away, slowly, then walked into the bathroom.
The warmth of the water spread across my skin, and I closed my eyes, letting the steam wrap around my face. I felt good. Not just good–satisfied. Things were shifting, bending in my direction like flowers to sunlight.
But then, in the silence, his face flickered into my thoughts.
Damien.
His hands around my waist earlier that day, catching me just before I slipped. The way his breath hitched, the intensity in his eyes when they locked with mine. There had been something in that moment—a spark I hadn’t anticipated.
I opened my eyes, water trickling down my cheeks like tears that weren’t quite real.
“No,” I said aloud. “Don’t go there.”
Chapter 17
It was a warning to myself. A quiet reminder.
This wasn’t a love story.
It was revenge.
And there was no room in revenge for butterflies.
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I scrubbed harder, trying to erase the memory of how he looked at me when I laughed at Jeff’s silly jokes. The way his gaze lingered when I thought he wasn’t watching. I couldn’t afford to feel anything. Not admiration. Not affection. And certainly not… hope.
“Don’t be foolish, Alicia,” I whispered. “That look in his eyes? It’s not yours–it’s bait. Don’t bite.”
Still, the echo of that moment clung to me. I leaned forward, resting my head against the wet tiles, and whispered again….
“Stick to the plan. Finish what you started.”
But the water no longer felt as warm.
And the silence no longer felt as safe.
I stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my chest, my skin still damp and warm from the steam. The scent of vanilla lotion hung in the air as I reached into my bag and pulled out the silk nightie I planned to wear. I draped it across the bed and sat for a moment, ready to cream my legs when I heard a
knock. Three short raps.
I froze.
Had Diana returned?
I clenched my jaw slightly, eyes narrowing at the door. After everything I’d endured in that godforsaken prison, I’d learnt a few things after I began to see again–how to fight, how to defend, how to inflict damage without breaking a sweat. I could never allow myself to be so helpless again.
If Diana was foolish enough to try anything tonight, she’d be eating tile before I even broke a nail. I’d scream, of course. Claim I thought it was a thief. No one would doubt me. Not dressed like this. Not after all the chaos she caused today.
I was already halfway to the door when I paused, hand hovering just short of the handle.
“Who is it?” I asked, careful not to let the tension in my voice show.
“Cia, are you there?” Damien’s voice came through, low and apologetic.
I blinked, then eased the door open just enough to see his face. When our eyes met, I widened the door without hesitation.
He stepped in, and the scent of his cologne curled into my lungs–earthy, expensive, unshakably masculine.
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“Oh,” he murmured, eyes darting down briefly before quickly flicking away. “I didn’t realize you were… I didn’t mean to intrude.”
I followed his gaze as though I’d just remembered I was still in my towel. I looked down, feigning surprise. “Oh–I forgot I hadn’t changed yet. I just finished my bath. I was about to moisturize.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, raising his hands. “I just made a quick stop to apologize again.”
His face looked genuinely troubled, a frown stitched between his brows. “I still can’t believe Diana behaved that way. It’s like she’s losing it.”
I
gave
him a gentle, understanding smile, folding my arms as though suddenly modest. “You really don’t have to apologize, sir. But… I guess now I understand a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Jeff.” I gave a slight shrug. “He’s such a well–mannered child. Kind. Respectful. I used to think maybe Diana had something to do with that, but now? No. He clearly takes after you.”
His lips tugged into a tired smile. “That boy means the world to me.”
“I can see that. He’s lucky he has you,” I said softly, lowering my gaze just enough to look humble.
“Well… thanks for being so understanding,” he said. “I’ll let you rest. Good night.”
He turned toward the door, and I nodded. ““Good night, sir.”
I began to move toward the bathroom again, giving the illusion that I was done with the night. Just as I passed by him, I let out a small gasp and let my foot slide.
It wasn’t dramatic, but it was just enough.
“Ah….!”
He caught me instantly, one hand gripping my waist, the other steadying my arm.
I looked up at him, pretending to pant, eyes wide like someone who had just seen her life flash by. “I…. I almost fell.”
But I didn’t pull away.
He didn’t either.
His hand was still at my waist, his other on my shoulder. He held me just like he did at the park. Too long. Too close. I reminded myself to breathe, to stick to the plan, but… why the hell was my heart beating like this?
I could see the hesitation flicker across his face as he guided me to stand. The restraint. The memory. He was thinking about the park too.
His eyes dipped to my lips before he caught himself.
But he didn’t step back.
Neither did I.
And then, just like that, the tension between us snapped. His hands moved up, cupping my cheeks, and he
leaned in.
I didn’t move.
His lips pressed against mine, and my heart skipped a beat–racing wildly in my chest even though this was part of the plan. Even though I had prepared for this moment. I kissed him back, soft at first, then deeper, fuller, almost like I meant it.
His lips tasted like spearmint. I hated how much I noticed.
But just when I felt the heat rising, I pulled back with a sharp breath and stepped away.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, sir. This is wrong.”
My voice trembled–not from guilt, but from precision. The kind of tremble that breeds confusion.
He reached for me, but I darted away.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, this time more firmly, and rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
“Cia–Cia, wait!” His voice sounded like it came from a distance, muffled through the door, full of frustration and remorse.
I stayed silent. Not a sound.
Seconds passed.
Then I heard him speak again, softer now. “Cia… I’m sorry.”
And then I heard the door open.
And close.
I waited another minute, just to be sure.
Then I stepped out of the bathroom, walked to the front door, and locked it.
I leaned my back against it and smiled to myself, the kind of smile that bloomed slowly, like satisfaction taking form on my lips.
“Flawless delivery, Alicia,” I whispered, brushing the damp strands of hair from my face.
The trap was set.
And Damien Stone had taken the bait.
