DESTINED SOULMATES

CHAPTER 003

Ariana’s pov

The mansion towered over us with each passing second as we pulled into the driveway; its dark, looming structure stretched across the starry night, swallowing me whole like a prison. My stomach twisted into a knot and a familiar ache nestled in my chest. Here I was, back in this place—back in the cage I’d nearly broken free from.

Zayn killed the engine and got out first without another word. I hesitated, my trembling fingers clutching the door handle with trepidation. Just moments ago, I was so close to getting out, so close to finally escaping the Blackwood name, Zayn, and all of this. But the freedom faded the instant I fell into his trap, pulling me back into this reality.

I forced myself to get out, my legs feeling heavy beneath me as I walked in sync beside Zayn. I felt a strange mix of sadness and anger clawing at my chest as we approached the house, but I managed to keep my emotions in check.

As we reached the steps, I noticed a sharp figure standing just outside the front door—Mr. Julian Blackwood stood there. He stood tall and imposing, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of us. It wasn’t like him to be around at this hour, especially not on short notice. ‘What was he doing here?’ I wondered.

“Good evening, Father,” Zayn’s voice sounded silky, but there was some sort of edge to it that I couldn’t quite place.

Mr. Julian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his bone-chilling gaze swept over both of us, lingering on the taxi before it settled on Zayn. His eyes seemed colder than usual, but then again, that was just how he always looked.

“And where exactly have you two been?” His voice was low, but I could hear a hint of suspicion laced in his tone. “And why are you coming back in a—” he turned his attention to the vehicle again and eyed it “—taxi?”

Zayn gave a small shrug and his voice sounded a bit nonchalant. “We decided to go for a little sightseeing, Father. And we thought we could have a bit of fun while we were at it.” I caught the quick glance Zayn threw my way, and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. Fun? I was trying to escape for God’s sake.

I couldn’t help but notice the way Mr. Julian’s eyes kept flicking between the two of us, narrowing with unsaid questions. His lips pinched into a hyphen and his eyes lingered on me with something close to disappointment. Or was it disgust? It was impossible to tell with him, but the weight of his unnerving stare settled in my stomach like a stone.

After a long pause, he gave a curt nod, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. It seemed like he was going to drop the topic—for now. “Sightseeing. I see,” he muttered before he turned away, his back as stiff as ever. “Odd time for a sightseeing trip, don't you think?”

As he stepped into the house, Zayn looked at me, his voice firm and low but with a hint of softness etched in it. “Go to your room.”

I didn’t argue. There was absolutely no point.

With one last look, I brushed past him and entered the mansion, my eyes catching the household staff’s burning gazes lingering nearby. They stared at me, some with sympathy, while others looked at me with quiet resentment. My chest constricted.

They already knew what I had tried to do. I’d put them in a tight corner by attempting to escape again and I almost got away this time. My heart pounded behind my ribcage and I quickened my pace, eager to escape the stares that pricked my skin like a bunch of needles.

Every step up the grandiose staircase felt heavier than the last as the weight of my failed attempt pressed down heavily on me. Finally, I reached my room and slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind me. I leaned against it and closed my eyes, a shaky breath escaping my lips as realization dawned on me.

I tried—really tried—to escape this life. And I had almost made it. But Zayn….he was one step ahead of me. Again.

My body sank onto the edge of the bed, frustration and defeat washing over me as I buried my face in my palms. Maybe….maybe stepmom was right. Maybe I was cursed. I was bad luck, just like she always said. Every attempt at freedom only brought me back here, and each time, the walls seemed to close in tighter—haunting me, taunting me.

I could still hear her cold voice, cutting through my mind and echoing like a persistent whisper. “You don’t get to have a dream, Ariana. You’re nothing but a burden and a curse. You should be grateful I’m still keeping you under my roof.”

The memory struck me hard, like salt being sprinkled on an open wound. It wasn’t the first time my ears had heard those words.

Now, as I sat in my room alone, I finally accepted my fate. I decided to swallow my pride and resign myself to a life where every one of my dreams and every fragment of hope would have to be buried. Her words echoed over and over in my ears and I placed a hand over my mouth to stifle the sobs that racked my body.

Maybe I was bad luck. Maybe I was exactly where I was meant to be.

A muffled voice echoed through the night, sharp enough to break through my swirling thoughts. I sniffled, quickly patting at my damp cheeks and pressing my fingers under my eyes to clean any trace of tears. As I struggled to hear, the voice rose again and it was louder this time, laced with a hint of irritation. Someone was shouting down the hall.

I got up and moved to the door, curiosity scratching at me. The hallway was deserted as I cracked the door open and poked my head outside. No security guards were stationed outside like before. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips. So, Zayn had kept to his word about lifting the restrictions.

Another deeper voice sliced through the air and I slipped out, my pulse racing as I tiptoed across the hallway towards the direction of the voices. I could see a faint glow of light spilling out from a room just as I turned round the corner. I pressed myself against the wall and inched closer as the words became clearer.

Julian’s voice, unmistakable, and tinged with impatience, drifted out. “I’m running out of time, Zayn. You need to act faster.”

There was a pause. I could almost feel the tension in Zayn’s reply, his voice almost rising to a yell. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that when the lady you forced me to marry has been trying to run away ever since the wedding?”

Mr Blackwood scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. “All the more reason to take her on this honeymoon. That way, you’ll be able to get…”

I barely held back a gasp as my elbow brushed against a vase on the stand behind me. It shook, dangerously tipping back and forth on the edge of the table. My heart dropped.

Thankfully, I grabbed it just in time before it fell, my fingers gripping the cool porcelain as I steadied it back onto the stand.

Inside the room, they had stopped talking.

I froze, my blood hammering in my ears. Had they heard me?

For a moment, I didn’t dare to move, listening intently as silence filled the hallway. Then, I released the vase and quietly dashed back to my room, praying I wouldn’t run into someone along the way. The second I made it through, I silently closed the door and pressed my back against it as I struggled to catch my breath.

My heart hammered behind my ribcage and fear clawed at me as I stared at the ceiling, hoping—praying—that they hadn’t seen me.

A barrage of questions exploded in my mind but only two got my attention—what were they talking about? And what could they possibly want from me?