CHAPTER 40: TOMORROW WE WED

Aiden POV:

"Tomorrow, we’ll wed, and we need to make this marriage believable," I said, my voice firm and unyielding as I leaned back in my chair. I watched Alexia as she finished the last bites of her dinner, her expression hovering somewhere between annoyance and apprehension.

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, a hint of rebellion glinting in their depths. Typical. She was like a wildcat, all claws and attitude, but I had no time for her tantrums. This wasn’t about her, or me, for that matter. It was about the deal.

"If we can’t pull this off," I continued, my tone clipped, "you can kiss this fancy lifestyle and gourmet food goodbye. Back to scraping together meals and living paycheck to paycheck."

Her fork clinked against her plate as she set it down, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "I get it," she snapped, glaring at me. "No need to rub it in."

I ignored her retort and pressed on. "I’ve already done my part of the deal—got you out of that mess, gave you this new life. Now it’s your turn. After the wedding, we’ll be visiting my father and stepmother. Don’t let them intimidate you."

Her posture stiffened, and I saw the flicker of uncertainty cross her face. Good. Maybe now she’d realize how serious this was. My father was not a man to trifle with, and my stepmother...well, she could eat someone alive with a smile on her face.

"What are they like?" she asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.

I gave her a dry smile. "Picture a wolf pack dressed in designer suits. My father is the alpha—sharp, calculating, and always expecting perfection. My stepmother? A master at playing the perfect socialite while subtly dismantling anyone who doesn’t meet her standards."

Her eyes widened, and she leaned back in her chair. "Great," she muttered. "Sounds like a lovely pair."

"You’ll manage," I said briskly. "Just remember what I told you—stay calm, be polite, and don’t let them see any cracks. If they sense weakness, they’ll pounce."

"Easy for you to say," she shot back. "You grew up around them. I’m walking into the lion’s den blind."

"You agreed to this, Alexia," I reminded her, my voice hardening. "No one forced you."

She looked like she wanted to argue but held her tongue. Smart move. I stood, brushing imaginary lint off my shirt, and gestured toward the door.

"Get some rest," I said, my tone softening just slightly. "Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. You’ll need all your strength to get through it."

As I turned to leave, her voice stopped me. "Aiden?"

I glanced over my shoulder. Her expression was guarded, but her voice carried a hint of vulnerability. "What if I mess it up?"

I paused, studying her for a moment. The confident, snarky girl I’d come to know looked small and unsure, and for a split second, I felt a twinge of something unfamiliar. Pity? Compassion? Whatever it was, I quickly buried it.

"You won’t," I said simply, my voice steady. "You’re tougher than you look."

She blinked, surprised by the unexpected reassurance. I didn’t give her a chance to respond, turning on my heel and heading toward my bedroom.

Tomorrow, the show would begin, and there was no room for mistakes.

Alexia POV:

Great. Tomorrow I become a married woman. A married woman. The words rattled in my head like a warning bell, and I flopped back onto the plush bed, staring at the ornate ceiling of my new, temporary life. A sigh escaped me, heavy with disbelief and a tinge of irony.

How did I even get here? Oh, right. The deal. The arrangement. The escape from a life that was crumbling beneath me. But as I lay there, I realized something I’d been pushing to the back of my mind: I’d completely forgotten the real reason I entered into this marriage in the first place.

I’d been so consumed by the lavish meals, the ridiculously expensive clothes, and the whirl of this charade that I’d lost sight of my goal. I needed to find out if he remembered.

If Aiden remembered our past.

The thought twisted in my stomach, sharper than the prawn fork I accidentally stabbed myself with earlier at dinner. Back then, it was me who held the reins. I was the rich one, the princess in a world of opulence. And him? He was the servant. The invisible one. The boy I barely acknowledged, except to sneer or bark an order at.

A pang of guilt crept up, uninvited. I hated admitting it, but I hadn’t been kind to him. Far from it.

But if Aiden did remember, he was hiding it better than a cat hides a stolen fish. He hadn’t been outright mean or awful to me, not like I had been to him when the roles were reversed. No, Aiden was cold, calculated, and annoyingly composed. The way he moved through his world, it was as if he was always five steps ahead of everyone else—including me.

Or was he simply biding his time?

The thought hit me like a slap. Was Aiden waiting for the perfect moment to reveal that he knew who I was? That he knew about my past cruelty and was holding it in his pocket like a trump card, ready to slam it down after the wedding?

I rolled onto my side, clutching a pillow as if it might offer some clarity. What would he even say if he did remember? "Oh, by the way, Alexia, remember when you were a spoiled little tyrant and treated me like dirt? Well, guess who has the upper hand now?"

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. This was bad. Worse than bad. If Aiden did remember, and he had been waiting for the right moment to strike, tomorrow might be the day everything unravelled.

But then again...what if he didn’t remember at all?

The idea seemed impossible. How could he not? I’d been awful, yes, but I was also unforgettable—wasn’t I? A smirk tugged at my lips, but it was fleeting. There were too many questions swirling around my head, and none of them came with easy answers.

With a sigh, I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Tomorrow was going to be a circus, no doubt about it. And I had no idea whether Aiden would be my reluctant partner under the spotlight or the ringmaster ready to pull the rug out from under me.

But one thing was certain: I needed to be ready for whatever came next.

And I also needed to find that bastard who killed me.

Before I was even written in the history books, I was gone. Snuffed out like a candle in the wind. It didn’t add up. My name wasn’t there, not in any records, not even a whisper of my existence. No grand tales, no tragic end, no nothing. Just... emptiness.

Or maybe... I wasn’t dead at all.

The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning. What if I hadn’t died? What if I had just...faded from existence? Forgotten, erased, like an insignificant footnote in the grander scheme of things. But if that were true, it meant there was a chance—however slim—that I could go back. Right?

My heart thudded in my chest, faster than it should have. Was this hope? Or just wishful thinking born from desperation?

Great. Now I was spiraling into insanity. Next, I’d be seeing ghosts or hearing voices telling me what to do. But insane or not, I knew one thing for certain: I needed answers. I needed to find out what really happened to my past.

Who killed me—or erased me.

And why?

Aiden didn’t seem like the type to have answers to questions like that. Or maybe he did, and I just wasn’t looking hard enough. After all, he seemed to be hiding something, didn’t he? Those calculated stares, the way his lips curled into that infuriating smirk whenever I pushed him too far—he was always holding something back. What if it wasn’t just about our present situation? What if he knew more about my past than he was letting on?

But there was another possibility, one that chilled me to my core: What if he was involved in what happened to me?

The thought was absurd...right? Aiden couldn’t be the one who betrayed me in my past life. He couldn’t have been the reason I vanished. Could he?

I shook my head, trying to clear the storm brewing in my mind. This was all too much. First, I had to get through tomorrow—the wedding, the charade, the game we were playing for reasons that had nothing to do with love. Then, I’d start digging. I’d start asking questions. I’d find out what happened to me, whether I had been killed, erased, or simply forgotten.

And if someone had taken my life, I’d find them. No matter how long it took. No matter what it cost.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about being erased, it’s this: If you don’t fight for your existence, no one else will. And the next life you might end up as a street kid.