The morning started with laughter.
Aria sat at the long marble kitchen island, Eva by her side, both of them wearing oversized T-shirts and messy buns, half-eaten croissants between them. For once, she felt normal. Not like someone's possession. Not like the girl hidden in a gilded cage. Just… Aria.
"You snore," Eva teased, sipping her coffee.
Aria snorted. "I'm growing a person. I'm allowed."
Luca, standing across the room with a cup of espresso in hand, gave a small smile at the sound of her laugh but didn't join in. He'd been quiet since Eva arrived, politely distant but always watching. Always calculating.
"You okay?" Eva asked her quietly, eyes flicking toward him.
Aria shrugged. "It's… complicated."
"He's hot," Eva whispered. "But also kind of terrifying."
Aria smiled weakly. "Welcome to my life."
Before Eva could respond, Maria stepped into the kitchen from the hallway, phone in hand and worry shadowing her features.
"Aria," she said, voice low. "You should see this.
She handed over her phone. On the screen was a group chat girls from the university. The kind of chat Aria had muted months ago when life stopped being normal.
A screenshot had been dropped in, followed by dozens of shocked messages.
@Lexii115:
Is it true??? Aria from psych is a SURROGATE?? For LUCA DE ROSSI??
@TatiRose:
Wait wait wait LUCA DE ROSSI??? Like, the real one???
@GirlOnFire:
The same billionaire with the cold eyes and the $20M penthouse in Tribeca? That Luca?
@EleniSays:
Lmfao she's pregnant and it's not even hers???
Aria blinked. "Luca De Rossi?"
Eva leaned over, reading. "Isn't his last name Cross?"
"It is," Aria muttered then glanced at Luca, who had frozen mid-sip.
He set his cup down. "De Rossi is my birth name," he said flatly. "Cross is what I built my company under."
Eva's eyebrows shot up. "So Luca De Rossi is your… billionaire alter ego?"
Luca's jaw tightened. "De Rossi is the name the media won't let go of. Cross is who I am now."
Aria stared at him. "So they dug up your real name. And now they think I'm carrying your child for money."
"You're not," he said quickly, voice colder than steel.
"But that's what they think. That I'm—what? A paid womb?"
The fire in her chest sparked, rising too fast.
Eva took Maria's phone back, scrolling. "It's getting worse. Someone said you disappeared for weeks, came back 'glowing,' and now live in a penthouse. They've basically built an entire plotline around you."
Aria stood abruptly. "This is humiliating."
Luca stepped forward. "I'll shut it down."
She looked at him, incredulous. "How? You can't erase what people already believe."
"I'll make a statement. My lawyers can push a defamation notice"
"Defamation?" she snapped. "Luca, they're not the tabloids. They're girls I shared lecture halls with. This isn't a lawsuit moment. It's a me moment. I'm the one being picked apart."
He didn't speak for a beat.
Then: "You shouldn't be stressed. This isn't good for you or the baby."
"And what, exactly, is good for me?" she said, eyes flashing. "Being trapped in a golden prison while the world tears me apart for a decision I never really got to make?"
His mouth opened, but the words didn't come.
Aria turned away, emotions boiling just beneath her skin. She didn't want to cry. Not in front of him. Not like this.
Eva rose slowly. "Do you want to go out? Clear your head?"
"I can't," Aria muttered. "I can't even go downstairs without Luca's team doing a sweep. I'm not allowed to breathe without clearance."
Luca's voice was sharper now. "You're not a prisoner, Aria."
"Really?" she said, spinning to face him. "Because everything sure feels like a transaction lately. The apartment. The silence. The nutritionist. The yoga trainer. And now the rumors? All wrapped in a bow called control."
He flinched.
And that hurt more than she expected.
Eva stood between them. "Okay. Maybe we all need air. Aria, come with me. Luca, maybe you can cancel your day of… billionaire meetings or whatever it is and figure out how to actually help her."
To her surprise, Luca didn't argue.
He just nodded, jaw tense.
"I'll handle it," he said quietly, then left the kitchen with a pace that spoke of restraint and storm.
Two hours later, Aria sat at a rooftop café with Eva, sunglasses over her face, scarf loosely tied over her growing bump. For the first time in weeks, she was outside without bodyguards. Free. Anonymous. Almost.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Maria.
Maria: He shut down the threads. Admins removed the posts. Word is out that it's fake.
Then another message.
Luca: Your name is off every digital corner it touched. I've also arranged a private sit-down with the Dean tomorrow to preempt any gossip hitting faculty.
Aria read it, heart heavy.
"Still controlling the damage?" Eva asked gently.
She nodded. "But that's the thing. He knows how to fix messes. He doesn't know how to sit in them with me."
Eva sipped her drink. "He's not heartless, though. That much I see."
"No," Aria admitted. "He's not. But he's ruthless. And sometimes I don't know if there's room for softness where he lives."
Her voice cracked a little. She didn't mean for it to.
Eva placed a hand over hers. "Do you love him?"
Aria hesitated. "I don't know what love is anymore. But I know I feel something. And it scares me more than the gossip."
They sat in silence, the city moving around them.
Then Eva glanced over Aria's shoulder and frowned. "Um… don't look, but we've got company."
Aria turned.
A woman stood at the edge of the outdoor seating area. Late forties, elegantly dressed, silver streak in her hair and fire in her eyes.
She wasn't paparazzi.
She wasn't press.
She was familiar.
And she was staring straight at Aria.
"Who" Aria began.
But the woman stepped forward and said, voice poised and lethal:
"I'm Luca's mother. And we need to talk."