Chapter Seven

XANDER'S POV

I stayed in the ballroom longer than I planned to. People were still talking, laughing, and taking pictures. The music was loud but my mind stayed on one thing. The girl in silver. Aria. Or whatever her real name was.

She had been right in front of me. Then she was gone.

I moved through the crowd with my eyes tracing every corner. “Did you see a girl in a silver dress pass here,” I asked a waiter as he carried a tray.

“No sir,” he said.

I kept going. Another staff member shook her head. Someone else pointed toward the hallway near the service doors and I didn’t even think twice before walking there.

The private hallway was really quiet. And the moment I stepped inside, the place felt odd. I looked left and right. No guests were in, bare walls and a slight echo.

I walked forward and almost stepped on a broken crate. Wood scattered on the ground, and a few screws rolled under my shoe. Above me the vent cover hung at a crooked angle. Pieces of metal were on the floor. It looked like a struggle had taken place here.

“Aria,” I said under my breath.

I bent a little, studying the mess. The broken crate wasn’t old. The edges were fresh. Someone had crashed into it with force. I glanced up at the vent again. A faint imprint of a boot mark was near the hinge. Someone had climbed fast, maybe trying to escape.

I took a step back and noticed the window at the end of the hall. The was broken. Cracked around the insides but not fully broken. How could glass like this be hit with enough strength to break it. I spotted the metal nozzle of a fire hose.

“What on earth were you doing here,” I murmured.

I checked the corners again. My instincts were not calm yet. I felt the quiet shift. I didn’t hear footsteps, yet I felt like I wasn’t alone. I took two steps backward, keeping my eyes on the hallway.

This place was not safe, not anymore.

I turned and walked out, ignoring two security guards who asked if everything was alright. I said yes, but didn’t give them a chance to ask further questions.

Outside the hotel, the night was cold. I rubbed the back of my neck and exhaled. I wasn’t leaving because I was scared. I was leaving because the danger wasn’t meant for me, at least not yet. And whoever had been in that hallway had moved with trained silence. That girl was no delivery girl. No staff member. Nothing about her was normal.

And that bothered me.

I drove to the restaurant she worked in, the one she always arrived at in that uniform with the branded jacket. The neon sign outside flickered as I parked. I walked in, and the door chimed above my head.

The owner stood behind the counter. A short man with tired eyes. He blinked when he saw me. “Good evening sir, how may I help you.”

“I’m looking for one of your staff. Aria. Light skin, small build, rides a bike.” I rested my hands on the counter. “Is she around.”

He shook his head. “She did not come in today. And she did not call.”

“When does she usually work.”

“Every day sir. Morning and night. She rarely takes a break.”

I frowned.

“Do you know where she lives.”

He hesitated. “No sir.”

“You do not know,” I repeated.

“We do not have her house address. She never gave it to us.”

I looked at him for a long time. “Why.”

“She said she preferred to keep her details private. I did not argue. She works well, and does not cause trouble.”

I rubbed my thumb along the counter, trying to piece her together. No address, no emergency contact, no one who knew her outside this place. “Does she have friends here.”

“Not that I know of,” he said. “She comes in, works, and leaves. Quite the quiet girl.”

A young waitress came from the back and joined us. “Sir, are you talking about Aria.”

“Yes.”

“She never tells anybody anything,” the girl said.

“She does not even sit with us on break. Sometimes she disappears outside and sits by her bike.”

“Has she ever brought anyone to meet her here,” I asked.

“No sir.”

I nodded slowly. I felt a strange pull in my chest, not worry or care.

Curiosity.

A level I could not shake off.

“Alright,” I said. “If she shows up before morning, tell her I came.”

The owner nodded.

I turned to leave, but paused near the door. I walked back to the counter and took out my card. “I want to deposit a large sum for future orders.”

The owner looked shocked. “Future orders sir.”

“Yes. This money will be the restaurant’s money. Any food I order should be deducted from it. But not from my personal account.” I looked directly at him. “And Aria is the one who will deliver anything I request. Only her.”

He blinked at me again. “Sir… that is a lot of money.”

“I am aware.”

He processed the card. “Three hundred thousand credited sir.”

“Good.”

He printed the receipt. “I will inform her when she comes.”

“Do just that.”

I walked back outside and leaned against my car door for a moment. My head was a little heavy with thoughts.

Why would a girl like her work here yet stay invisible. Why slip away from a gala without being seen. Why hide her address from the people she worked with daily. Why appear innocent yet leave behind a hallway that looked like a fight scene.

I sat in the car and tapped the steering wheel lightly. My mind replayed the dance. The way her body went stiff. The quick way she pulled away. The look she gave me, almost like she expected danger behind every person in that room.

“Who are you,” I muttered.

I drove home but the night refused to sit still in my mind. I kept replaying her voice, her steps, her eyes. Not because I cared too much. But because everything about her felt out of place. Out of design. Out of the normal world I lived in.

And I wanted answers.

I tossed my jacket on the couch and loosened my tie. I walked to the kitchen to get water but stopped midway. The image of the broken crate flashed again. The boot mark on the vent. The crack on the glass.

And the silence in the hallway.

I poured a glass and sat down, letting my thoughts run clear. If she had been hurt, someone would have reported it. If she had run from danger, she would have gone home. But she had no home on record. And she had no presence online. I had checked earlier from my phone. Nothing. Not even a trace of a birth record.

“How can a person like that exist,” I muttered.

I took another sip and leaned back.

She was a ghost.

A very interesting one.

Whatever she was hiding, I would find it. And this was going to be fun.