Chapter 294: Just Keep Breathing

Aria slammed the door of the rented black limousine shut, trapping a hyperventilating Zoe inside before she could make a run for it.

"Just breathe!" Aria whispered through the cracked, tinted window. "I will text you everything! You are going to be fine!"

"I feel like am going to throw up!" Zoe shrieked back, clutching her hot-pink Jacquemus micro-bag to her chest like a life preserver.

"I’ll be right behind you!"

Aria stepped back, waving the chauffeur off. She watched the long, sleek limousine merge into the bustling evening traffic.

Aria headed back home, going as fast as she could convince Richard to drive.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the foyer of the Sinclair penthouse, her heart was hammering a rapid, frantic rhythm against her ribs.

The living room was empty.

Aria paused, dropping her keys onto the console table.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked her notifications. There were three panicked texts from Zoe, an email from a fashion brand, and a spam message.

Nothing from Damien. Not a single missed call.

Aria frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. She walked into his dark, quiet study. Empty. She checked the bedroom then the bathroom then the kitchen. Empty.

He wasn’t home.

"Okay," Aria muttered to herself, the silence suddenly feeling incredibly loud.

She began to pace the length of the living room, her teeth worrying her thumbnail. This was weird. She was worried something happened to him, but she knew that wasn’t it.

’I literally asked for this,’ Aria reminded her spiraling brain. ’I told him I needed space. I should be thrilled he is finally respecting something I ask for.’

But she wasn’t thrilled.

Aria went up to the guest room upstairs. She took a quick shower, moisturized her skin, and threw her hair up into an elegant high bun that pulled the skin of her cheekbones taut. She applied contour, a smoked-out cat eye, and a dark, blood-red lip.

She walked quickly to the closet in the master bedroom and searched through the garment bags until she found the dress she thought about wearing.

It was a floor-length, long-sleeved, black evening gown covered in crushed obsidian glitter. It featured a low, plunging neckline and a very high slit up the left leg.

Aria stepped into the fabric and pulled it up. She reached behind her back, grabbed the zipper, and pulled.

It stuck.

Aria grunted, twisting her torso awkwardly to get a better angle. She yanked the zipper again. It barely moved an inch, snagging right around the curve of her glutes.

"You have got to be kidding me," Aria hissed, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

The dress was very tight. It was doing gravity-defying wonders for her cleavage, hoisting her breasts up perfectly, but it was suffocating her lower half.

’When did my ass get so big?!’ Aria panicked internally, wiggling her hips aggressively to try and shimmy the fabric higher.

With a final, desperate, breath-holding heave, she managed to yank the zipper all the way up. She let out a long exhale, accepting that she would not be able to bend over or sit down comfortably for the rest of the night.

She paired the gown with a pair of high, black Christian Louboutin stilettos, grabbed a sleek black clutch, and hurried back out into the living room.

Damien was still MIA.

Aria’s phone buzzed violently in her hand.

[Zoe: I AM IN THE LOBBY. THERE ARE SO MANY RICH PEOPLE HERE. WHERE ARE YOU??? I AM SWEATING LIKE CRAZY!!]

"I know, I know!" Aria groaned at the screen, furiously typing back to tell her to hide in the bathroom.

Just then, Diana was wheeled in by Sarah into the living room.

Diana was draped in an emerald-green velvet gown. A glittering diamond collar necklace rested against her collarbones, paired with a vintage tiara that looked like it had been stolen from the British Royal Family.

"Going somewhere?" Aria asked dryly, crossing her arms.

Diana scowled, adjusting the clasp of her diamond bracelet. "If you must know, I am attending the Sotheby’s Black-Tie Auction tonight. Not that you would understand the caliber of such an event."

Aria’s eyes widened slightly. "Sotheby’s? The one on Park Avenue?"

"Yes," Diana bragged, a smug smirk spreading across her face. "The Sinclair estate is looking to acquire a few historical pieces. The Royal Austrian jewels are on the block tonight."

Aria’s mind raced. Diana was going to the same closed-door auction.

She looked down at her phone. The clock read 7:10 PM and the auction starts at 8pm. Damien still wasn’t home. Aria had no ride, she had no invitation in her own name, and Zoe was very close to either passing out or running off.

Aria looked back at Diana. A sweet smile stretched across her red lips.

"Diana," Aria purred, taking a graceful step forward. "That sounds lovely. You know what? You should take me as your plus-one."

Diana stared at her. The older woman let out a loud, amused bark of laughter.

"Take you?" Diana scoffed, looking Aria up and down with blatant disgust. "I would rather take a smelly, hairless dog with rabies as my plus-one. Absolutely not."

"Come on, it’ll be a great sisterly bonding experience," Aria offered, unfazed.

"You are not invited, Aria," Diana jeered. "And you never will be. As you can see, the world doesn’t care if you are a billionaire’s wife. In rooms like that, you are as significant as a pebble in a stone pile. You are nothing."

Diana waved a dismissive, diamond-clad hand at her nurse. "Sarah, to the garage. The car is waiting."

Aria gripped the rubber grips of Diana’s wheelchair, bringing the chair to an abrupt halt.

"Hey!" Diana shrieked, gripping the armrests.

"Sarah," Aria said, keeping her gaze locked on her sister-in-law. "You can take the night off. Go get a burger. I’ll take it from here."

The exhausted nurse only stepped back, fearing Diana’s wrath and losing her job if she were to leave.

"What do you think you’re doing?!" Diana demanded, twisting in her seat to glare up at Aria.

Aria leaned down, her face hovering just inches from Diana’s. She offered a sickly-sweet smile.

"You are going to take me to that auction as your plus-one, Diana," Aria whispered. "Imagine the beautiful story it will tell the press. ’Damien Sinclair’s two favorite girls, bonding over diamonds.’"

Aria tilted her head.

"It’s certainly a much better headline than... ’Damien Sinclair’s Wife and His Weirdly Obsessed, Incestuous Sister,’ don’t you think?"

"How long are you going to keep using that threat?" Diana hissed, her voice trembling with humiliated rage. "It’s getting old."

"Old, but still very effective, right?" Aria hummed cheerfully, giving the handles of the wheelchair a slight, teasing shake. "Or have you suddenly decided you no longer care about the entire world thinking you have a thing for your baby brother?"

"Fine," Diana gritted out, the word tasting like poison on her tongue.

"Fantastic!" Aria beamed, instantly popping back upright.

Aria spun the wheelchair around, pushing a fuming Diana toward the elevator.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the back seat of Diana’s private transport car, cruising through the glowing streets of Manhattan. The silence between them was thick and venomous.

Aria’s phone buzzed in her hand.

Kai delivered.

Aria quickly tapped the forward button, sending the digital invitation and the fake ID to Zoe’s phone.

[Aria: Just sent them! Do NOT speak to anyone. Just keep your head down and look bitchy. I am pulling up in five minutes!]

But Aria’s text had arrived too late, Zoe was already speaking to someone.