DamonWhere the hell are you, A?Why couldn’t you just sit your ass down?Why?One week. That’s all I asked for. One week to get my head straight. To clear this goddamn fog that’s been clouding every thought since Paris.But no. Of course not.It’s already late. The sky’s dark, the streets are quieter than usual, and every fucking second that ticks by adds weight to my chest. I grip my phone like it might suddenly offer an answer, but instead it rings, the sharp sound slicing through the silence.Kingsley.“Any news?” he asks the second I pick up.“No, man. She’s not here. I found her phone in an alleyway, but she’s not here.” My voice comes out flat. Resigned.He exhales sharply. “Keep searching. She couldn’t have gotten far. Hopefully, she managed to get away."“Right. Thanks. This stays between us. You know what’s at stake.”“Of course,” he says, his tone grave. “My prayers are that no one’s recognised her in all this mess.”“Right. That too. It would be a fucking disaster.” I mutt
DamonThe car pulls in minutes later. Leo jumps out, opens the backseat. I ease her inside, wrapping her in a spare blanket from the trunk.She doesn’t fight it. Just shivers, eyes closed, the shell of her body telling a story she won’t say out loud.I climb in beside her.“Drive,” I tell Leo.The ride is silent.The engine hums. The wipers slice the rain. Her breathing is steady, shallow, like the whole night’s events have finally caught up to her.I glance at her.No mascara.No lipstick.No sharp retort sitting on her tongue.Just a girl who ran too far, chasing someone who may not want to be found.And all I want in this moment is to reach across the seat and hold her hand.But I don’t.Because I’m still the monster.Have been. Still am.I’m cut out of my reverie by the sound of Leo’s voice.“Where to? Home or?” He asks, his voice tight with hesitation, eyes flicking back to the rearview mirror.He already knows the answer. Or at least the dilemma. We can’t go home.Eunice will sn
AriaNot long after I doze off, a sharp pain splits through my head, jolting me awake. It pulses once. Then again. I wince, eyes clamped shut as if that alone could dull the sting.When I manage to pry them open, he's already seated beside me in a chair. A glass of water and a pill sit in his hand like some unspoken offering."I should have given you this before you slept," he says, voice even but clipped. "Get up."It comes out more like an order than concern.I try to push myself up, but a dull ache shoots through my leg. I flinch. Damon stands and sits on the edge of the bed, one arm supporting my back as he helps me up gently.That gentleness throws me off more than the pain.He's been like this since yesterday. Quiet, calculated, and gentle in ways he’s never allowed himself to be."Thank you," I murmur."Here. Take this," he replies, handing me the pills and water.I swallow it quickly, passing the empty glass back to him. He places it on the side table without a word.Then, str
Aria “No, Damon!” I snap. “Don’t you dare. I never had you. Not really. I had a jailer. A freaking captor. A man who dragged me out of a hospital bed and threw me into this freaking cage!”He flinches. Just slightly.But it’s enough.“And I fought. Every damn day. I tried to hold on to what little I remembered. To what I felt. To my name. But you crushed all of it under your suspicion.”“You could’ve died out there,” he says, voice low, dangerous.“Then maybe I’d finally be free.”Silence.He walks toward me. Slowly.I should move. But I don’t.“I searched every fucking corner of that alley,” he says, voice hoarse. “And when I found your phone, I thought—” He stops himself. Shakes his head.“I thought I was too late.”Emotion clogs my throat.But I don’t look away.“You’re angry because I dropped my phone?”“I’m angry,” he growls, hesitating for a bit, “because I care.”That breaks me.Just like that.Because it’s the last thing I expect to hear. From him.The air crackles.But I don
DamonDamon freaking Stone.What now? What next?The ceiling stares back at me as my chest slowly rises and falls. Each breath steadier than the last, but not enough to calm the chaos inside.I can still feel her on me. Around me. I don’t dare look in her direction. If I do, I’ll give myself away—and not just with my eyes. The tight rein I've kept on this storm inside will snap, and I can't afford that. Not right now. Not yet.Because now, it’s clear. As clear as the silence hanging in this room.She isn’t Ava. Never was.I always had my doubts. From the way she spoke, to how she carried herself, to how she'd look at me—not like someone with history, but like someone new. But tonight? It sealed it. The way her body moved with mine, how she reached for me, the rawness of it—no calculation, no manipulation, just... raw.Unfiltered.Honest.It was never like that with Ava. There was always an angle. An agenda.But her?Aria?She was shaking. Trembling beneath my hands. Like every touch m
AriaI don’t know when sleep finally pulled me under, but I know the weight in my chest hadn’t lifted when it happened. Maybe I passed out more than drifted off—from exhaustion, from anger, from confusion. From the ache of feeling stupid again.My body aches in strange places. Not from pain—at least not entirely—but from memory.Last night comes crashing back. The weight of him. The heat. The way my own body betrayed me. Not that it was forced—no. That’s what makes it worse. I let it happen. I wanted it. Wanted him. In that moment, and maybe longer than I would want to admit.It was good.Too good.Better than anything I'd ever experienced before, which says less about him and more about the sad collection of men from my past.Still, waking up feels like being dropped right back into the mess I was trying to escape in the first place. The thoughts from the night before creep back in like shadows across the ceiling. That sting of feeling stupid. Used. And most of all, ignored.He didn’
DamonThe silence in Kingsley's guest bedroom is deceptive.Aria's breathing has evened out, soft and rhythmic. She’s asleep again, but my mind is wide awake, refusing to rest. The ceiling stares back at me like it expects me to explain myself. It knows what I did and is daring me to justify it.She’s right beside me—warm, steady, impossibly close. The same woman I convinced myself to hate. To control. To manipulate.And I let all of it unravel. Just like that.One night. One touch. And I dropped the mask. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t part of the plan.I shift slightly, keeping still enough not to wake her. Not yet. I don't want her to open her eyes and catch the guilt written all over mine. Guilt I can't afford.Not when I’ve already made a decision: I’m not letting her go. Contract or not. Not when the damage is already done.I just chose all this while not to see. She was never Ava.It’s not just the way she moves or how she speaks. It’s the way she fights back, even w
DamonShe doesn’t slam the door behind her.That’s how I know she’s angry.She slams doors when she’s trying to make a point. Not when she’s actually pissed. This silence? This quiet exit back into her own space? That’s worse.The adjoining door clicks shut, and the room feels colder.I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and stare at it for a second longer than I should. It’s just a door. A wall with a handle. But tonight, it might as well be a damn fortress.It’s not like I didn’t see this coming. Every move she’s made since Kingsley’s told me exactly what page she’s on.But it doesn’t make it easier.I tug at my collar. The shirt feels tighter than usual. Everything does lately. I’ve barely settled in since we got back, and I already feel suffocated. The walls of this house, of this arrangement, all closing in.I cross to the bar, pour two fingers of scotch into a glass, and let it burn down slowly. It doesn’t help much.She hasn’t said as much as I know she would w
AriaThe Vancouver skyline stares back at me, cold and smug through the tall glass windows. We’re at the top floor of one of Damon’s luxury hotels—his name, his money, his power carved into every inch of this place. But for all the luxury, it feels more like a cage than ever. A prettier one, but a cage nonetheless.The room is ridiculous. Opulent. Sleek floors, floor-to-ceiling glass, m everything. A bottle of wine rests untouched on the coffee table. Our suitcases sit side by side near the closet like they’re in a truce we can’t manage.And I’m pacing.My phone buzzes. Again.Derek: Still in town. Can we catch up? I hesitate, thumb hovering.Me:Unfortunately not. We can catch up right here.Damon steps out from the bathroom, sleeves rolled, watch glinting against his wrist as he fastens it. He hasn’t said much since we landed. Not about the trip. Not about the room. Not even about the last time we spoke.Just a clipped, "Dinner. Twenty minutes. Dress accordingly."Like we’re here fo
DamonIt’s still early when I walk into our adjoined room. Not quiet, not loud. Just the kind of silence that means she’s inside—maybe awake, maybe pretending not to be.I pause by the door that connects our rooms, knock once. No answer. Doesn’t surprise me. She’s made it a habit lately to answer when she feels like it, not when I ask. I reach for the handle anyway and step in.She’s by the window, back turned to me. Sunlight touches her hair, giving it a bronze tint. Her posture’s stiff, too still. She heard me. She’s just not in the mood.Figures.“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I say flatly. “Pack enough. It won’t be a short trip.”No response. Not even a twitch.I let the silence hang, let her fill it or ignore it. The power play doesn’t matter today.“The security logs were compromised again,” I add. “It’s worse than the last time.”Now she moves. Just barely. A shift in her shoulders. “So this is what now? Another emergency evacuation?”“Something like that.”She finally turns, arms c
DamonShe doesn’t slam the door behind her.That’s how I know she’s angry.She slams doors when she’s trying to make a point. Not when she’s actually pissed. This silence? This quiet exit back into her own space? That’s worse.The adjoining door clicks shut, and the room feels colder.I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and stare at it for a second longer than I should. It’s just a door. A wall with a handle. But tonight, it might as well be a damn fortress.It’s not like I didn’t see this coming. Every move she’s made since Kingsley’s told me exactly what page she’s on.But it doesn’t make it easier.I tug at my collar. The shirt feels tighter than usual. Everything does lately. I’ve barely settled in since we got back, and I already feel suffocated. The walls of this house, of this arrangement, all closing in.I cross to the bar, pour two fingers of scotch into a glass, and let it burn down slowly. It doesn’t help much.She hasn’t said as much as I know she would w
DamonThe silence in Kingsley's guest bedroom is deceptive.Aria's breathing has evened out, soft and rhythmic. She’s asleep again, but my mind is wide awake, refusing to rest. The ceiling stares back at me like it expects me to explain myself. It knows what I did and is daring me to justify it.She’s right beside me—warm, steady, impossibly close. The same woman I convinced myself to hate. To control. To manipulate.And I let all of it unravel. Just like that.One night. One touch. And I dropped the mask. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t part of the plan.I shift slightly, keeping still enough not to wake her. Not yet. I don't want her to open her eyes and catch the guilt written all over mine. Guilt I can't afford.Not when I’ve already made a decision: I’m not letting her go. Contract or not. Not when the damage is already done.I just chose all this while not to see. She was never Ava.It’s not just the way she moves or how she speaks. It’s the way she fights back, even w
AriaI don’t know when sleep finally pulled me under, but I know the weight in my chest hadn’t lifted when it happened. Maybe I passed out more than drifted off—from exhaustion, from anger, from confusion. From the ache of feeling stupid again.My body aches in strange places. Not from pain—at least not entirely—but from memory.Last night comes crashing back. The weight of him. The heat. The way my own body betrayed me. Not that it was forced—no. That’s what makes it worse. I let it happen. I wanted it. Wanted him. In that moment, and maybe longer than I would want to admit.It was good.Too good.Better than anything I'd ever experienced before, which says less about him and more about the sad collection of men from my past.Still, waking up feels like being dropped right back into the mess I was trying to escape in the first place. The thoughts from the night before creep back in like shadows across the ceiling. That sting of feeling stupid. Used. And most of all, ignored.He didn’
DamonDamon freaking Stone.What now? What next?The ceiling stares back at me as my chest slowly rises and falls. Each breath steadier than the last, but not enough to calm the chaos inside.I can still feel her on me. Around me. I don’t dare look in her direction. If I do, I’ll give myself away—and not just with my eyes. The tight rein I've kept on this storm inside will snap, and I can't afford that. Not right now. Not yet.Because now, it’s clear. As clear as the silence hanging in this room.She isn’t Ava. Never was.I always had my doubts. From the way she spoke, to how she carried herself, to how she'd look at me—not like someone with history, but like someone new. But tonight? It sealed it. The way her body moved with mine, how she reached for me, the rawness of it—no calculation, no manipulation, just... raw.Unfiltered.Honest.It was never like that with Ava. There was always an angle. An agenda.But her?Aria?She was shaking. Trembling beneath my hands. Like every touch m
Aria “No, Damon!” I snap. “Don’t you dare. I never had you. Not really. I had a jailer. A freaking captor. A man who dragged me out of a hospital bed and threw me into this freaking cage!”He flinches. Just slightly.But it’s enough.“And I fought. Every damn day. I tried to hold on to what little I remembered. To what I felt. To my name. But you crushed all of it under your suspicion.”“You could’ve died out there,” he says, voice low, dangerous.“Then maybe I’d finally be free.”Silence.He walks toward me. Slowly.I should move. But I don’t.“I searched every fucking corner of that alley,” he says, voice hoarse. “And when I found your phone, I thought—” He stops himself. Shakes his head.“I thought I was too late.”Emotion clogs my throat.But I don’t look away.“You’re angry because I dropped my phone?”“I’m angry,” he growls, hesitating for a bit, “because I care.”That breaks me.Just like that.Because it’s the last thing I expect to hear. From him.The air crackles.But I don
AriaNot long after I doze off, a sharp pain splits through my head, jolting me awake. It pulses once. Then again. I wince, eyes clamped shut as if that alone could dull the sting.When I manage to pry them open, he's already seated beside me in a chair. A glass of water and a pill sit in his hand like some unspoken offering."I should have given you this before you slept," he says, voice even but clipped. "Get up."It comes out more like an order than concern.I try to push myself up, but a dull ache shoots through my leg. I flinch. Damon stands and sits on the edge of the bed, one arm supporting my back as he helps me up gently.That gentleness throws me off more than the pain.He's been like this since yesterday. Quiet, calculated, and gentle in ways he’s never allowed himself to be."Thank you," I murmur."Here. Take this," he replies, handing me the pills and water.I swallow it quickly, passing the empty glass back to him. He places it on the side table without a word.Then, str
DamonThe car pulls in minutes later. Leo jumps out, opens the backseat. I ease her inside, wrapping her in a spare blanket from the trunk.She doesn’t fight it. Just shivers, eyes closed, the shell of her body telling a story she won’t say out loud.I climb in beside her.“Drive,” I tell Leo.The ride is silent.The engine hums. The wipers slice the rain. Her breathing is steady, shallow, like the whole night’s events have finally caught up to her.I glance at her.No mascara.No lipstick.No sharp retort sitting on her tongue.Just a girl who ran too far, chasing someone who may not want to be found.And all I want in this moment is to reach across the seat and hold her hand.But I don’t.Because I’m still the monster.Have been. Still am.I’m cut out of my reverie by the sound of Leo’s voice.“Where to? Home or?” He asks, his voice tight with hesitation, eyes flicking back to the rearview mirror.He already knows the answer. Or at least the dilemma. We can’t go home.Eunice will sn