Page 126 of Damsel in Disguise

“Alistair Hertley,” the name easily rolls off my tongue.

Another silence follows, heavier this time, like Asher is still processing the weight of the information.

Meanwhile, I’m pacing slowly across the apartment, watching my reflection catch briefly in the darkened glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Just when I think I pissed him off to the point of hanging up, his voice bleeds through the line. “Now who the fuck is this Alistair Hertley? How on earth does this dude hold such influence to free you from HINR?”

I don’t tell him he’s the head researcher of Triarch Dominion. What if Asher suspects him of being the anonymous information provider? Hell, now I am having doubts about him.

A soft giggle breaks me, almost amused by the sharp edge creeping into his timbre. “Relax. You’ll like him.”

My eyes fall on my nails, then my toes. Jeez, they turned me into a filthy monster within twenty-three hours. I need to book a slot in the salon.

“It’s not the right time to joke, Ariella,” he warns. “You were detained for homicide, and now you’re casually telling me your professor walks in and just… what? Signs you out?!”

“He likes me,” the words slip out too easily. I’m really being delusional at this point.

“What have you become?” he mutters, more to himself than to me, though the question still lands exactly where it’s meant to.

I tilt my head slightly, watching my own static reflection, studying the subtle shift in my silhouette. What have I become?

“That’s an interesting question coming from you.”

“Ariella—”

“What’s more interesting is that you’re surprised,” I cut in softly.

He goes quiet.

“Where’s Adrian?” I ask abruptly, leading the conversation elsewhere.

“At work,” he replies automatically, thrown off to answer without thinking. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Ariella,” there’s that warning again. “You don’t get to pretend this isn’t serious. You’ve put yourself in a position where people are paying attention to you.”

“Alistair will save me,” I say, pouting at my reflection.

My heart is fluttering at the possibility of being the damsel in distress just so my prince charming can arrive on a white horse to save me.

“That’s not how this works,” he scoffs

I know it doesn’t. Maybe I love being delusional.

“You’ve always done this,” Asher says finally. “You make a mess, and then you insist you can handle it on your own like the rest of us are just… irrelevant.”

My jaw clenches slightly, though my voice remains perfectly even.

“No one needs to be here to fix anything,” I say instead, my tone settling into something final. “I’ve got it handled. Just you and Dad… don’t try to come for my rescue, or I’ll personally hand myself over to the Triarch Dominion and sign up to be a Synthète.”

“Ari—”

I’m done being the sheltered princess.

I end the call before he can speak any further and switch my phone to airplane mode without a second thought.

No interruptions. No interference.