Chapter Ten Damian's anger

Aria stood frozen, she pulled away from Marco's grip. She slowly walked over to the door, her hand hovering above the doorknob. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, the sound of the knock still echoing in her ears. Her eyes darted toward Marco, who now looked at her with concern, or was it amusement?

“What if it’s Damian?” she whispered, panic rising in her voice.

Marco’s smirk faded. “Then we’re both dead,” he said casually, folding his arms. “You should probably answer it.”

Aria shot him a glare and slowly turned back to the door. She opened it a crack, peering outside. Relief washed over her when she saw it was just a maid.

“Mrs. De Luca,” the maid said with a polite smile. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Aria replied quickly, trying to calm her voice. “I’m fine.”

The maid handed her a black gift bag. “This is for you. From Mr. Damian De Luca.”

Aria blinked, confused. “From… him?”

The maid nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He said to make sure you received it before he got back.”

Aria took the bag slowly. “Okay… thank you.”

The maid bowed slightly and turned to leave. As Aria closed the door, she realized Marco was still standing there.

“You can leave now,” she said coldly.

Marco opened his mouth to say something, but Aria raised a hand. “I said leave.”

He sighed and walked toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’m sure you married my father to get revenge on me,” he muttered under his breath. Then with a twisted smirk, he added, “But I promise you this, Aria, I’ll make sure you regret that decision.”

And with that, he walked away. Unbeknownst to him, a maid down the hall had been watching. Her eyes followed him with suspicion, then she quickly turned down the corridor to report what she’d seen.

Inside, Aria stood still for a moment, the gift bag clenched in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she opened it and pulled out a delicate piece of black lingerie. She stared at it, stunned.

“What the hell…?” she whispered. “Why would he give me this?”

She dug deeper into the bag and found a folded note tucked inside. Unfolding it, her breath caught in her throat at the words scrawled in bold, sharp handwriting:

“Wear this before I get back.”

Her heart stopped for a second. She stared at the note like it would rewrite itself.

“Is he serious?” she said aloud, her voice shaking. “This… this would make me look like a slut…”

Just then, the loud sound of a car horn echoed from outside. Her head snapped up.

“Damian,” she whispered, panic setting in again.

Moments later, the bedroom door opened and Damian walked in like a storm cloud. His tailored suit clung to his broad shoulders, and his eyes were unreadable. He didn’t even glance at Aria as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the chair.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, sat down, crossed his legs, and finally turned to look at her.

“I hope you liked the gift,” he said, his voice calm but with a dark undertone.

Aria clenched the fabric of the lingerie in her hand. “Why did you get me this?”

Damian tilted his head. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know…” she replied hesitantly. “This would only make me look like a slut.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “Was Marco here?”

Aria stiffened. Her blood ran cold.

“W-what?” she stammered. “Why would you....?”

“Answer the question,” he said, voice dropping to a dangerous level.

“I—well… he was, but just for a moment. I didn’t invite him—”

“Forget it,” he cut her off sharply. “Go and put on the lingerie.”

Aria blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, setting the glass down and rising to his feet. “Put it on.”

“But… why? I don’t want to wear this. I don’t like it.”

Damian slammed his hand on the table. The noise made her flinch. In two strides, he was in front of her, grabbing her arm.

“What you like and don’t like doesn’t matter to me, Aria,” he growled. “I don’t care.”

“I’m not some cheap slut!” she snapped, yanking her arm back. “Why would I wear this for you?”

He laughed darkly. “You aren’t a cheap slut, huh?”

He stepped closer, his breath hot against her face. “Have you forgotten that night at the club? The way you clung to me, begged me to touch you? And you didn’t even know my name. What does that make you?”

“I was drunk!” Aria shouted, tears threatening to spill. “You know that wasn’t who I am!”

“Do I?” he sneered. “Because all I see is a girl who spread her legs for a stranger and then ran into his house to become his wife.”

“That’s not fair!” she cried, voice trembling. “You don’t know what I’ve been through!”

Damian’s jaw tightened. He looked at her like she was some puzzle he didn’t care to solve.

“Go and put it on,” he ordered coldly. “Or I swear I’ll end you right now.”

Aria’s shoulders slumped. Her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t say another word. She grabbed the lingerie and turned away from him, walking to the bathroom.

As soon as she shut the door, she leaned against it and broke down. Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, still clutching the sheer fabric in her hands.

She looked up at the mirror.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “This isn’t what I wanted…”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she forced herself to stand. The reflection that stared back at her wasn’t the same Aria who had come here full of fire and revenge. This girl… looked broken.

But somewhere inside her, a flicker of strength still lived.

She wiped her tears and stared into her own eyes.

“You have to survive this,” she whispered. “You have to stay strong… for the plan. For your freedom.”

But even as she said it, she wasn’t sure if she believed it anymore.