Guilty in His Eyes

With calculated speed, Nadia snatched the steaming black coffee right out of Aria’s grip. The heat radiated through the thin ceramic, but Nadia did not hesitate. She flipped the mug upside down, dumping the scalding liquid onto her own face. The dark coffee splashed across her cheeks and dripped down her neck, staining the silk slip dress. Before Aria could process the sudden motion, Nadia hauled her right hand back and slapped her own cheek with a loud, sharp smack. The sound cracked like a whip in the quiet kitchen.

Without missing a beat, her delicate frame crumpled toward the floor. On the way down, she shifted her upper body. Her forehead collided hard against the sharp corner of the marble island. A fresh, warm trickle of blood split the skin. The crimson liquid seeped down into her eyelashes, mixing with the dark streaks of coffee to complete the grisly tableau.

Nadia huddled on the cold kitchen tiles, shaking her head as she wailed. "I am so sorry! It is my fault. I should not be hanging all over Dorian like this. I apologize. If smacking me around makes you feel better, then go for it. I will not lift a finger to stop you."

The heavy thud and desperate pleas echoed through the open floor plan. Heavy footsteps pounded on the wooden stairs. Dorian bolted down into the kitchen space. His eyes locked onto the mess on the floor. He saw the dark coffee dripping from Nadia's chin, the fresh blood trickling from her forehead, and the stark red handprint blooming across her pale cheek. Fury ignited in his chest.

He raced over and dropped to his knees, hovering over her fragile frame.

He shot Aria a scorching, hateful glare. "Aria, have you lost your mind? Apologize to Nadia right now."

Aria did not flinch. She locked her calm eyes with his furious stare. "If I say it was not me, would you believe it?"

Dorian let out a harsh sneer. "You are claiming Nadia doused herself in coffee, slapped her own face, and flung herself down? I heard the whole thing. Do you think I am an idiot?"

His blunt, unwavering rejection hung in the tense air. That sharp, final pang tore through Aria's chest. It severed whatever tiny thread of hope she still carried.

Nadia staggered up from the floor. She wobbled on her bare feet and slumped against his chest. "Dorian, it hurts so bad. Is my face burned?"

The black coffee had been fresh from the espresso machine. A few tiny blisters were forming on her cheek. She grabbed his shirt collar, playing the ultimate suffering saint.

Nadia looked up at him with wide, woeful eyes. She tilted her chin just enough to give him a clear, unobstructed view of the red slap mark. "Dorian, forget it. If it calms Aria down, I can handle a bit of pain and embarrassment."

Dorian buried his face in her hair. His stare turned deadly as it fixed on Aria again. "Apologize."

Watching Nadia direct her melodrama and witnessing Dorian's blind devotion froze Aria's heart solid. The last remnants of her affection died right there in the kitchen.

A sardonic smile curled her lips. "You want that apology from me?"

He missed the dangerous sarcasm lacing her tone. "Apologize."

Aria pivoted on her heel. She walked back to the counter, grabbed a fresh mug, and placed it under the espresso machine. She pressed the button. The machine whirred, filling the cup with another round of piping hot black coffee. Steam plumed from the surface. She picked it up and closed the distance between them.

Dorian and Nadia watched her approach. They stood their ground, puzzled by her calm demeanor.

Aria stopped two feet away. Before either of them could process her intent, she leveled the mug and hurled the scalding liquid into Nadia's face.

The hot coffee hit skin with a wet splash. A bloodcurdling scream tore from Nadia's lips.

Aria stepped forward. She swung her arm and delivered a sharp, echoing slap to Nadia's uninjured cheek. Her palm connected with a stinging force. Next, she grabbed the shrieking woman by the shoulder, yanked her out of Dorian's protective embrace, and shoved her hard.

Nadia hit the floor with a heavy thud. She gasped for air, thrashing against the hard tiles.

Dorian stood gaping in stunned silence. The sudden violence caught him off guard. He just stared as Aria crossed her arms and eyed them both with cool detachment.

Aria stood tall, looking down at the weeping figure. "There you go. The charges stick now. Consider that my apology."

She flashed a faint, mocking smile at the apoplectic Nadia on the floor. "Since you pinned those crimes on me, it would be a shame not to make them real. How else could I apologize to you? I should thank you for the opportunity."

Nadia glared up from the floor. Her eyes bulged with rage. She looked ready to tear Aria apart.

Aria gave her a casual glance. "You should get those wounds on your face looked at. Wait too long, and they might heal on their own. Oh wait, no, they could leave scars instead."

She took a measured step back. "I am afraid you will not be able to flaunt that harmless little act anymore. Scamming your way through life like this... what a pity."

Nadia burst into hysterical sobs. She crawled toward Dorian and buried her wet face against his pant leg. "I am disfigured! It hurts so much, Dorian. My face is ruined!"

Dorian snapped out of his shock. He bent down and scooped his weeping prize into his arms, lifting her into a princess carry. "No, it will not be ruined. I am taking you to the hospital right now."

He turned back to Aria. He shot her a vicious, threatening glare. "I will deal with you when I get back."

Dorian rushed out the front door with Nadia in his arms. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind them, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

Aria watched him leave. Her expression dripped with cold indifference. In the past, she would have clung to his arm, begging him to stay and listen to her side of the story. She would have shed tears and pleaded for him to see through Nadia's lies.

Now, she felt nothing but a cool breeze in her chest. Letting go and putting herself first felt liberating. She realized she had been a fool, blinded by a one-sided romance and always compromising her own boundaries. That era of her life was over.

She turned her attention to the kitchen island. She picked up a damp towel and began wiping away the spilled coffee and the streaks of blood Nadia had left behind on the counter. She scrubbed the marble surface with slow, steady movements.

Moments later, her phone rang from the nearby table. She glanced at the glowing screen. It was her real estate agent.

She tossed the towel into the sink, dried her hands, and answered the call. "Hello."

"Ms. Vance, I have a prospective buyer interested in the apartment. They want to know if they can swing by for a viewing today."

Aria agreed without hesitation. "Bring them over. I will not be here, but the place is ready."

She hung up the phone. She opened her messaging app and texted the electronic door code to the agent.

To offload the apartment fast and clean, she had slashed the price to rock bottom. She even threw in all the luxury furniture, almost giving the place away. She just wanted the sale finalized and the cash in her account.

She knew Dorian would be preoccupied at the hospital with Nadia for hours. Whenever Nadia was involved, he dove in headfirst and ignored everything else around him. This gave Aria the perfect, uninterrupted window to seal the deal. She did not fear any future fallout from Dorian discovering the sale. She just wanted to secure the funds and sever her ties with both of them for good.

There was nothing left in this space worth holding onto. Every corner of the apartment held memories she no longer cared to keep. The expensive area rugs, the custom leather sofa, the dining table where Nadia had just thrown her tantrum—they were all just objects tying her to a dead past.

Aria walked into the master bedroom. She pulled a small leather duffel bag from the closet shelf and began packing her remaining essentials. She folded a few comfortable sweaters, some denim jeans, and gathered her daily toiletries. The reflection in the mirror showed a woman whose eyes were clear and determined. She was no longer the desperate fiancee willing to swallow her pride for scraps of attention. That pathetic version of her was gone.

She did not bother looking at the designer dresses and expensive jewelry Dorian had bought her over the years. They could stay and become the new owner's problem.

Once the brass zipper was shut, she slung the heavy strap over her shoulder. She took one last look at the pristine, quiet bedroom. A sense of final closure washed over her. The heavy, suffocating burden she had carried for months was lifting off her shoulders.

She walked down the long hallway and headed for the front entrance. The silence in the apartment was deafening, yet peaceful. She stepped out into the corridor and let the door click shut, knowing she would never step foot inside again. It was time to erase her past and leave the wreckage behind. She walked toward the elevator, fishing her car keys from her pocket.