Alex woke up with a rare grin tugging at his bruised lips.
Today was the day.
He'd barely slept the night before; his mind was on fire, playing scene after scene of how she'd react. Ariel, crumbling at the sight of him. The guilt in her eyes. The way her voice would tremble when she whispered his name.
He rose slowly, wincing as pain tore through his spine. The bruises were healing, but not enough to stop him from looking convincingly broken.
Perfect.
He showered and dressed all in black. He wanted the bruises on his neck to show. Then he sprayed the lightest cologne he had the kind that lingers, never shouts.
Then his phone rang.
Adrien.
Alex rolled his eyes.
He didn't pick up.
Not today.
He had plans.
Again the phone buzzed. This time a different name:
Mia Madre.
His hand hovered over the answer button. For a moment, his chest tightened.
He picked up.
"Hello?"
"Alex…" Her voice was soft. Weak. "Will you come see me?"
He hesitated. "Not now."
"You always say that."
"I'll come later."
And then he hung up.
The hospital could wait. Ariel couldn't.
Back at the hospital, Gianna stared silently at her phone. She said nothing, placing the device on the side table and turning her face toward the window. A single tear escaped down her cheek.
Adrien watched her from the corner of the room, jaw clenched.
"That bastard," he muttered, grabbing his car keys.
---
Alex stepped out of the hotel into the sunlight. He had barely walked ten steps when a voice whispered inside his mind:
"You should've gone to see her first".
He froze.
His mother. Was she okay?
Guilt clawed at him.
He sighed. "Fine."
He turned around and headed for the hospital.
---
Meanwhile, Adrien sped through the gates of the Moretti estate, Alex's massive white-stone mansion nestled on the hills just outside the city.
It was the kind of home that spoke power. Long glass walls, marble columns, a fountain in the driveway taller than a car. The security guard didn't question Adrien; he looked exactly like Alex.
The main doors were unlocked.
He stepped into the grand foyer floors of polished black marble, golden light dripping from an enormous chandelier. The air smelled of cedar and something faintly spicy. Familiar.
Then he heard it—
"I'll be out in a second, Alex!"
Adrien turned his head.
A voice from inside.
He stepped further in, past the curved staircase, until he saw the guest wing open. Ariel's things were scattered—makeup, a robe, the scent of rose body wash lingering in the air.
Then the bathroom door opened.
Ariel stepped out, wrapped in a small white towel, crop top clinging to her damp skin, shorts hugging her hips.
She froze when she saw him.
Her face lit for a moment, then twisted with confusion.
"Wow, your hair looks longer," she said. "You look... different."
Adrien's lips twitched. "You think so?"
She laughed nervously. "Yeah, kinda. Something about you feels... I don't know. Weird."
Adrien blinked, studying her.
He hadn't expected her to be this pretty. Her skin glowed against the white. Her eyes narrowed slightly—suspicious but still soft.
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, stepping closer.
He smirked. "I feel great."
But as she approached, her gut twisted.
Something wasn't right.
He looked like Alex. Exactly like him. But the energy was off. Alex didn't smirk like that. He didn't stare at her body like he'd never seen it before.
And he never made her feel nervous.
This Alex… felt like a stranger.
Her heart thudded.
"Alex?" she whispered again. "Did something happen?"
Adrien tilted his head. "Not really. Why do you ask?"
"You're… different."
She meant it. Her instincts screamed that this wasn't her Alex.
But how could that be?
There couldn't be two Alex.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You told me Simon beat you up," she said carefully. "But there's not a single scar on you."
Adrien blinked.
Caught off guard.
She watched his face.
The hesitation was there , a flicker of confusion.
"Oh," he said casually, "I guess I healed."
Liar.
Humans don't heal this fast.
And he never looked at her like this like she was just another girl.
She stepped back slowly.
Then whispered, "You're not him."
Adrien smiled faintly and stepped forward. "Then who am I?"
Her breath caught.
The air thickened with dread. Her throat tightened, hands cold at her sides. Every instinct told her to run.
But her feet stayed rooted.
She stared like she was seeing a ghost...no an intruder to be exact..
"…Who are you?" she whispered again.
Adrien said nothing.
Just smiled.