The Wrong Heiress; White Lotus Lies

The bass from the club thrummed through the walls like a heartbeat, pulsing against the velvet and glass that framed the exclusive lounge. Cigarette smoke curled through the air, mingling with the scent of expensive perfume and aged wine. In the corner booth, Aria sat with perfect poise, her gown shimmering beneath the low lights. Her beauty was undeniable, her smile sweet-yet her eyes carried the sharp gleam of a blade hidden beneath silk.

Julian hesitated at the entrance. The dim glow caught the pale curve of her face, her expression soft but guarded. Though she had been back in her parents' lives for months now, she still felt like a guest wandering through a world that should have been hers all along. She smoothed the hem of her dress, inhaling deeply before she crossed the room.

Aria's smile widened the moment she approached, warm enough to melt away suspicion, tender enough to mask the venom brewing beneath. "Julian, over here," she called sweetly, lifting her glass.

Julian walked toward her, unaware that every step she took was leading her deeper into a carefully spun web.

"Julian, I know we started off on the wrong foot, and I really want to apologize for it all," Aria said softly, her lashes lowered to hide the glint of triumph in her eyes. Her voice quivered, her expression painted in pitiful innocence. "I never meant to steal Damian from you. It's just... we've known each other since childhood, and I love him. I know he's supposed to be your fiancé, since you're Mum and Dad's biological child and the betrothal was arranged for you both." She bit her lower lip delicately, and tears trembled on her long lashes.

Julian studied her, face unreadable, though her clenched jaw betrayed her hesitation.

Aria was the adopted daughter of Richard and Margaret. They had raised her with love, but Julian had always been the missing piece. Kidnapped as a baby and sold into an illegal adoption ring, her disappearance had devastated her parents. Margaret, heartbroken, had nearly lost the will to live until the doctors urged them to adopt another child to soothe her grief. That was how Aria entered their lives.

"I understand," Julian said at last, her voice gentler than her eyes. "None of this was your fault. You're my sister, and I've thought of you as one ever since I came back home. I'm not here to take your place."

Her expression softened, and she reached out to hug Aria.

The memory of last night flickered through her mind. Richard had announced that Aria's engagement to Damian would be annulled now that Julian had returned. Aria had erupted in fury, her words lashing like whips. Yet today, she had invited Julian to a club, claiming she wanted to make amends. Innocent, trusting, Julian-who had always loved her as a sister-never imagined she was walking into a trap.

"Sis, it's your rightful place to be engaged to Damian," Aria said, lips curving in a sad, noble smile that disguised her malice. "I'm the imposter here. I really do owe you this apology."

She poured wine into two glasses, the liquid catching the dim light of the club, and handed one to Julian. "I've always wanted us to live happily. I know I've not been the kindest, but I want to change. Let's make up, once and for all."

Julian accepted the glass without hesitation. "Thank you, sis," she murmured, raising it to her lips. The cool wine slid down her throat in one trusting gulp.

Aria's smile sharpened as she watched her drink.

Moments later, Julian's vision swam. The room tilted, dizziness crashing over her like a wave. Her smile faltered as she stared at Aria, eyes wide with confusion.

Aria leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Oh, sister... one thing I despise most about you is how easily you fall into my schemes. That drink? It was spiked."

Julian gasped, her body trembling as the strength drained from her limbs.

"I've always hated you," Aria whispered, her triumphant smirk gleaming in the shadows. "You came out of nowhere to steal Mum and Dad's love. But they are mine. Damian is mine. And soon, everything they have will belong to me."

Julian's body gave way, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Aria crouched beside her, brushing a strand of hair from Julian's face with feigned tenderness. "From tonight, dear sister, everything goes my way. Mum and Dad will only see me, and Damian will always be mine."

She straightened, lifted her chin, and snapped her fingers.

From the doorway, a shadowed figure stepped forward.

Aria's smirk lingered as she turned and strode out, her heels clicking against the floor. The man she had summoned stepped forward, his broad frame casting a shadow over Julian.

"Take care of her," Aria ordered coolly.

Without a word, he seized Julian by the arm. His grip was iron, crushing, and no amount of struggling loosened it. She tried to wrench free, but her body was weak, sluggish, the drug slowing every movement.

He dragged her down a narrow hallway, the music from the club fading into a dull thrum. With one shove, he pushed her into a side room and slammed the door shut, the lock snapping into place before his heavy footsteps retreated.

Julian staggered, clawing at the wall for support. Her skin burned, her head pounded, every nerve screaming with heat. She pinched her arm, slapped her own cheek-anything to stay awake-but the fog clung to her mercilessly.

"She won't... fall for Aria's schemes again," she whispered through gritted teeth.

Her fingers dug into the cool marble wall, survival instinct dragging her forward. Step by dragging step, she forced herself toward the door.

Julian's trembling fingers reached the door handle. She twisted it desperately, but the lock refused to budge.

"Fuck..." she hissed under her breath, shoving her weight against the door.

Her weakened body betrayed her-knees buckling, strength draining faster than her will. She stumbled backward, crashing onto the cold floor. The last thing she felt was the icy marble against her skin before darkness swallowed her whole.

Somewhere else in the club.....

The bass of the music throbbed through the walls, muffling the low voices of a group of men gathered in a secluded corner of the club. Laughter and drunken chatter filled the air, but within their circle, the mood was sharper-controlled.

Among them sat two men who did not blend with the rest.

"Bro, you can't keep declining all the marriage proposals coming your way," Williams said with a sigh. "You even cut Mr. Pascal's daughter's finger just because she tried touching you. Your mum's already having a breakdown because she wants you to settle down."

Jordan's lip curved into a faint, unreadable smile. His gaze flickered constantly, scanning the crowd. But there was something wrong. His body felt strange. Too warm. Too heavy. He was drugged.

"She made you do this, right?" His voice was hoarse, low.

Williams hesitated, then admitted, "I had to. She threatened to send me to Africa if I didn't make you sleep with someone tonight. She's already prepared a girl for you-the Vice President's daughter."

"You'll pay for this, Williams," Jordan growled, forcing himself upright though his body betrayed him. His skin burned, sweat prickling at his temples.

"Damn it..." he cursed through clenched teeth. His vision blurred, the club lights twisting into streaks of color. Every breath felt like fire, every heartbeat hammering against his ribs. The drug was consuming him, stripping him of control. He tried to cling to consciousness, but his body no longer obeyed.

The last thing he registered was Williams' face-caught in the cold wash of the club's blue lights-as his so-called friend dragged him out of the private room.