The toy
. I woke up to sunlight piercing through my puffy, red eyes. I turned and noticed Jessie wasn't in bed. With a slow gait, I strode out of the room, drawn by the sound of her laughter coming from the kitchen. "Morning, sunshine," Zach greeted me as I entered. "How are you feeling?" Jessie asked. "Like I've been stung by a thousand bees," I replied, gulping down a glass of water. "You'll get better," Jessie said. My eyes darted around the room, scanning for someone I wasn’t ready to face. Just one smile from him, and my heart would foolishly skip a beat. "So, what are your plans for today?" I asked Jessie. "Well, Zach is taking me shopping with the money I won yesterday." "When did you two become friends?" I inquired. "We were never enemies," Zach said, taking a swig of his drink. It reminded me of Damon, who liked to start drinking early in the morning—birds of a feather. "And you don’t have to worry about the demon," Jessie added. "He’s gone back to New York." I should have felt relieved, but instead, it felt like another hundred bees stung my heart. "I want to go back to New York," I stated. I couldn’t enjoy anything here, thanks to Damon. I needed something strong to distract me, and my work was the only thing that could. Without hesitation, Jessie pulled out her phone. "I'll book our flight." "We’ll just use my private jet," Zach suggested. "Alright," I replied, and I headed back to the room to pack. **** It’s been five days. Five days of lying on this couch and telling myself there is a part of him that loves me. Five days of anger as Damon flaunts his fiancé. Five days of promising myself that I'll become classy and elegant if that's what it takes for him to love me. Five days of drowning in the bitter taste of alcohol,shutting out everyone. Five days and I have passed through the five stages of grief, finally accepting that he would never love me. I rubbed my face and reached for my phone, typing a message to Logan. Me: Hey, sorry, I have been really dealing with a lot. I tapped my fingers, waiting for his reply. He probably hates me for ignoring him, especially after throwing him out that night. My phone chimed. Logan: Hey. Would you like to talk about it? Me: Yeah. Logan: You know where to find me. Me: I'll meet you at 6 p.m. Logan: Alright. I've been avoiding Logan because I didn't want to use him. If I'm with him, it should be because I genuinely have feelings for him. I still don't plan on using him. I just have to make myself love him, force my heart to flutter for him—anything to get Damon out of my mind. ***** I stood outside a bar, clad in a body-hugging black dress, my face touched with a little makeup. I couldn’t tell if it was just embarrassment or something else that was making my heart race as it competed. Taking a deep breath, I walked in. “Hey,” I said, settling onto a stool at the bar. “Hey!” Logan smiled at me. I rubbed my palms together, trying to manage whatever I was feeling in my stomach. “Try this.” He smiled, pouring me a drink. “Oh, it’s non-alcoholic,” Logan added. My eyes widened as I took a sip. “This is fantabulous,” I commented. A smile appeared on his face. "So, what’s the name of the drink?” I asked. “I don’t know; I just made it,” Logan replied. “I think I’ll name it Aria.” “Aria?” I repeated, my cheeks turning red. “Yeah, its taste is as beautiful as you are,” Logan said. I giggled, and he chuckled before saying, “It sounded so much better in my head.” I smiled. “So, are you going to explain, especially about that night?” I took another sip of the drink. “About that night...” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I can’t explain.” I finally admitted it. “How’s your leg?” I asked, changing the subject. “I twisted it, but it’s getting better.” He chuckled. “Do you want to talk about what you’ve been dealing with?” I flinched as memories of the past few days flashed through my mind. “I assume it has to do with that guy—Damon Wesley.” I bowed my head, focusing on my drink, saying nothing. “Why don’t you just end things with him completely?” I looked up, meeting Logan’s green eyes. They weren’t as mesmerizing as Damon’s, but they were beautiful enough. “It’s not as easy as you think,” I said quietly. There was no way I could tell him about the contract. “I came here to forget, not to talk about it,” I added. Logan smiled and refilled my glass. He took my hands in his. “You can use me however you want,” he said, his words cutting through me. “However I want,” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Logan nodded. I smiled, before engaging in a long conversation while enjoying my Aria mocktail. As I got home, I crashed on my sofa, recounting the drink date I had tonight. It was nice talking to him. I checked my phone—still no message from Damon. I tried to suppress my disappointment—anyway, it’s for the best. My phone pinged; it was a message from Logan. Logan. Have you gotten home? Me: Yeah. Thanks for today. Logan. The pleasure was all mine. When I get home, I’ll message you. Me: Alright. Just as I was about to call Jessie and tell her about my date, A sharp pain throbbed in my head. It was the memory of the diary in my childhood house. This was the second time I had this memory—I didn’t know how, but I just knew it was important. I had been running from my past because Aunt Mary always said it was a painful one, though she never explained why, and I had been too weak to seek the truth. But it seems my past is finally catching up to me, and I can no longer avoid it. When the pain subsided, I went to bed knowing that tomorrow I would be going to my hometown—Warwick. ***** As I arrived in Warwick, just an hour's drive from Manhattan, an unsettling feeling gripped my stomach. Despite this being my hometown, it felt like a foreign place, one that somehow knew me better than I knew it. With the help of G****e Maps, I stopped at the front of a dilapidated white house numbered eighteen. I reached out of my phone and checked the picture of the house my aunt had sent me to confirm. Stepping out of the car, I scanned it—Its windows were broken, and the lawn was overgrown looking like a dwarf bush. Swallowing hard, I gave the door a soft push, causing it to creak open, slapping my nose with a musty scent of mildew and abandonment. Dust and cobwebs were the new inhabitants of the house. As I moved around the house, my steps and heartbeat echoed in my ears. Approaching a door marked "Aria and Ariel," I entered to find two beds side by side. I desperately prayed for something, for a memory. I should be feeling nostalgic—this was my house—yet nothing. I turned around, scanning the room, trying to figure out where the dairy was. My breath quickened as I pulled the drawers, revealing a hairbrush and nothing more. I opened the wardrobe—just clothes. After searching everywhere I could and seeing nothing, I sighed in frustration as I sat on one of the beds. How do I find this diary? I know what it looks like, but I just can’t remember where it was. I had a feeling it was here. Suddenly, I bent down to check under the bed, and as I remembered I hadn’t checked, there it was—a box. I pulled it out and opened it. My heart hiked, and my pulse rose as I saw not only the diary but the bracelet in my flashback. It looked expensive. While admiring the bracelet, my shoulders tightened as I heard the door downstairs open, and footsteps echoed through the house. Ariel is dead, my mother is in a coma, and nobody should be here except me. Suddenly the steps got faster and louder—it was heading in my direction. As it drew closer, my gaze darted around, searching for an escape route. I ran towards the window and glanced outside. The thought of jumping out popped up—my mind was willing but my body wasn’t; now I knew how Logan felt. The overgrown bush wasn't encouraging, as it could conceal dangerous objects. After dismissing the thought, I decided to hide in the closet. I thought Damon was the only one who could make my heart beat in my head—yet here I was, my heart beating in my head as the door to the room opened. I stifled my mouth with my hand as the figure paced around the room. My eyes flung wide open as the closet door opened. His pitch-green eyes stared down at me, a knife in his hands.The toy . Suddenly, I regretted why I hid in the closet. I should have jumped out— should have risked breaking my leg. I closed my eyes, and the taste of fear—metallic and bitter—lingered on my tongue as I awaited my end. “Ariel,” his surprisingly soft voice called out. I opened one eye before the other, sizing the huge man before me. “It’s me, Tony your neighbor.” He scoffed jokingly. “I mean your former neighbor.” He stared at the knife before tossing it to the floor. “Sorry, I must have scared you. I saw a car packed outside, and I thought it was one of those junkies that come around.” I was still too stunned to speak; fear was still coursing through my veins. “Aria” He asked. Noticing I flinched at the mention of the name, he apologized. "Sorry, I thought it was Ariel. Cause of the hair.” I stepped out of the closet and dusted off the cobwebs draping my outfit. Turning to him, “the hair?” “Ariel loved her hair long, and you, you know, you loved yours short.” He explaine
The CEO..I stood outside Binky’s apartment, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my black pants, wrestling with the urge to go inside or return to that house. I couldn’t even call it a home, not with Lucy living there.I sighed as I saw the post: Damon Wesley celebrates his fiancée’s birthday.My heart ached, knowing Binky must have seen it too. I always thought she didn’t care about me and that her outbursts were just attempts to break free from our contract. But the vacation made me realize she was in love with me, and I’d do anything to be with her—even if it meant making a deal with the devil.Every part of me wanted to confront my father directly, but that would be foolish; he wouldn’t just torment me, but everyone I care about.A tall figure entering Binky’s apartment jolted me from my reverie. From the broad shoulders, it had to be a man, and my mind immediately jumped to Logan. Although Binky said he was Jessie’s friend, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.A frown wa
The toy..As I regained consciousness, my eyes met a white ceiling, the scent of antiseptic hanging in the air. I winced as I touched the bandage wrapped around my head.“How are you feeling?” Jessie suddenly appeared in my face. “I thought you were going to slip into another coma.” She laughed through her tears, pulling me into a hug.It was the first time I had seen Jessie cry, not even when her fiancé called off the wedding or when her puppy died. I always teased her, saying she must have sold her soul to the devil.“It’s not that easy to slip into a coma,” Logan remarked, entering the hospital room. “How are you feeling?” He gently held my hand.“Other than the throbbing headache, I’m okay.” I smiled weakly.Jessie took my hair in her hand. “Was it that bastard who did this to you?” she asked, her brows furrowed.“Yes,” I admitted, averting my gaze as I brushed back my hair.What could I say? That I had done this to myself? Damon had a way of bringing out the worst in me. If som
The toy.“What’s happening?” Jessie asked as she saw the terror in my eyes.I jerked up. “Logan knew me before our first meeting at the wedding.”Her eyes widened as she approached me. “What do you mean?”I picked up the diary from the bed and showed her what I had just read. “Remember when you said something that must have triggered my memory at the restaurant? And I said Logan was the only new thing in my life.”“And I said Logan didn’t strike me as someone who knew you,” Jessie said, sinking into a chair. “Then why is he acting like he’s never met you?” She took a deep breath. “Don’t you think we’re jumping to conclusions here? There are thousands of Logans out there.”“Yeah, and they all happen to have the same dark hair and green eyes?” I retorted, still pacing around the room.“There are more than seven billion people in the world,” Jessie justified.As expected, Jessie was always trying to be logical.Out of frustration, I let out a grunt. “Then explain why my memories started
Lucy pov.I walked into the dining room. The smell of pancakes and orange juice greeted my nose, causing my stomach to rumble. But that wasn’t the only thing I could smell—I could smell pretense.I saw Damon sitting on the table, checking his business stock on his tablet.“Good morning, Love.” I leaned over from behind, caressing his chest, before settling in the seat nearest to him.“Good morning, Love.” He greeted me back without taking his gaze off his tab.I bit my lips as I traced his thighs with my foot, sliding upto his dick beneath his suit trousers.“It’s too early for this.” He replied, his eyes still glued to his tablet.I did it again, accidentally knocking over a glass of juice. The liquid spilled across the table and onto his suit.Damon turned, anger flashing in his amber eyes. "Happy now?" He tried to dab the stain, but it was no use."Well, if you had paid attention to me, this wouldn't have happened." I took the napkin from him, and instead of cleaning the table, I
Toy ..I strode down to the living room, basking in the freshness that comes from taking a shower after a long day at work, holding my diary and a cup of juice. If I’m going to read about my sad past, it’s best to have a cold drink to freeze the pain.I settled on the couch, noting that the monotone furnishing of Jessie’s house was still an eyesore. As I opened my diary, the system buzzed, and Jessie walked in.“Ooooh gosh,” Jessie grunted as she crashed into the sofa.“How’s the planning going?” I asked, sipping from my juice.“Mrs. Brown is the most annoying client I’ve ever had.” Jessie leaned forward. “She doesn’t know what she wants. One moment it’s red roses, the next it’s white lilies,” she rushed, gesticulating with her hands.She suddenly stopped complaining and picked up her phone as it pinged.I chuckled. “What’s that?” I asked, noticing the smile stamped on her face while she stared at her phone.“It’s Zach.” Jessie smiled.My eyes flew wide open. “Wait, Zach? Damon’s Za
The toy..“Jessie!” I called out as I spotted her standing outside the meeting room. The meeting must be over.“You’re late, but I covered for you,” Jessie said.She had left the house before me because she had a project to present.“My car broke down,” I explained. “Thanks so much. What would I do without you?” I smiled, linking my arm with hers as we walked back to our office.As we settled into our seats, which were right next to each other, Jessie’s gaze fell on my bracelet.“Wow, you decided to wear it?” she smiled, drawing a file from her drawer. “I tried to find where you could get it, but it turns out it’s custom-made.” She picked up my arm. “This beauty is one of a kind.”“And it looks so expensive,” I remarked, staring at it intensely.“Hmmm.” She nodded. “And if Logan reacts, it means he’s the one who got it for me,” I added.“I doubt a bartender could afford such a bracelet,” Jessie replied without taking her eyes off her computer.I had been hoping it was from Logan, but
The CEO.."Where did you get this?" Her eyes widened as if she had just seen a ghost. I pulled her closer by the hands, closing the space between us. Her beautiful doe eyes stared into mine, wide and questioning."You gave me the bracelet?" she asked, taking a few steps back.I had given it to Ariel as a gift—a customized piece that was one of a kind. I couldn't fathom how a bracelet that had been with me ended up on Binky's wrist. "If I had given it to you, would I be asking that question?" I replied, my tone harsh. Her eyes reflected fear. "Binky," I said, trying to ease her tension with a smile. "I made it for a friend, but it was stolen." I couldn't bring myself to tell her I had made it for her sister. I hadn’t even mentioned that I knew Ariel, let alone that we had dated. Ariel had said she and her sister were close, but Aria had told me they were never on good terms. I was too excited and happy to see that face to bring up the past."Stolen? Are you kidding me?" She instan