Ariana’s POV
It started with the cold.
I was in Roman’s room ours, now that he no longer belonged to this house—and I swear the temperature dropped the second I stepped inside. My body still hurt from the slap. My mother’s voice still echoed, her eyes blazing with shame.
But none of it compared to what I was feeling now.
Roman was in the shower. And I was standing in front of his desk drawer.
I wasn’t snooping.
I wasn’t.
Except… maybe I was.
The drawer stuck for a second before it slid open with a soft click. Inside: notebooks, a flash drive, a black leather folder that looked too out of place to ignore.
I opened it.
Photos spilled out.
And the second I saw her face, I forgot how to breathe.
She was beautiful.
Sharp eyes, full lips, hair the color of midnight. But it wasn’t he
