Chapter eight The Lion's Den

Aria’s breath hitched at the question Damian asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were with my son?”

The words echoed in the silence of the study like a detonated bomb. Her throat went dry. Damian’s voice had been calm, too calm, but his eyes burned with quiet, calculated fury.

She stood frozen near the door, her heart thundering in her chest. Damian stood across the room, a glass of scotch in his hand, but his posture was tense, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.

“I—I didn’t think it mattered,” Aria finally managed, barely above a whisper.

“Didn’t matter?” he echoed, stepping toward her, each word laced with venom. “You came to me with a marriage proposal, Aria. And all that time, you conveniently forgot to mention you were once engaged to Marco?”

“You thought it didn’t matter?” he repeated, voice low and dangerous. “That you were sleeping with my son before marrying me?”

Her knees weakened. “It wasn’t like that...”

“Then how was it, Aria?” he snapped, the calm mask slipping as he stepped forward. “Tell me how you went from being Marco’s lover to becoming my wife!”

She winced at the venom in his voice, but she didn’t retreat. “We were lovers. Yes. We were engaged. But it ended, he ended it. I was nothing to him.”

“Then why didn’t you say something? Why keep it a secret?” he growled.

“Because I didn’t want to be judged by you,” she fired back, voice rising. “Because I knew what it would sound like. Like I was just some girl who jumped from son to father.”

Damian slammed his glass down on the nearby table, the sharp crack making her flinch. “And that’s exactly what it looks like. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That no one would whisper in my ear? My own staff knew before I did!”

Aria’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. “I was going to tell you—”

“When?” he barked. “After the honeymoon? After I declared you mine in front of the world? Or after Marco’s smug little grin at the dinner table made me question everything?”

Aria’s fists clenched at her sides. “You don’t know what he did to me.”

“Then enlighten me,” Damian said bitterly. “Tell me what justified this entire charade.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving. Then, her voice broke. “He used me.”

The words hung between them like smoke.

“I loved him,” she whispered. “With everything I had. I trusted him. And he threw me away like I was nothing. After two years of promises, of dreams he built with me, he ended it like I was trash. And then he moved on, to women who looked better on his arm. My dreams were shattered , and I was left humiliated. He cheated on me. On our engagement night.”

Damian’s face remained unmoved. If anything, it hardened further.

“So, you decided to get back at him. And who better to use than his father,” he muttered.

Aria’s heart cracked. “I...i didn’t use you.”

“You think I’m a fool?” he shot back. “You think I can’t see a woman with a motive when she’s standing right in front of me? Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t plan to marry you, Damian. It wasn’t some grand revenge plot—”

“But you went through with it anyway,” he roared, suddenly closing the distance between them and grabbing her arm. “You signed those papers without hesitation, knowing damn well everything was a lie!”

“It wasn’t deceit!” she cried, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t fake this. You... you’re not what I expected, Damian. And I started to care. I still do.”

“You thought you could play me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Use me to get back at him. Use my name to escape your pathetic problems.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her back against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her freeze.

His face hovered inches from hers, his grip firm, unyielding.

Her tears spilled over, silent and hot down her cheeks.

“I’m not Marco,” he hissed. “And I’m not a man you can manipulate. Don’t think for a second your innocent act will work on me.”

Aria trembled beneath his grip, her voice barely a breath. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You’re already neck-deep in it,” Damian snapped. “You’re my wife now. That means you carry my name, live under my roof, follow my rules.”

She nodded quickly, her lower lip quivering. “I understand…”

“Good,” he said, his voice deadly quiet now.

He leaned closer, his next words like poison against her skin.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he said, each syllable sharp. “If I ever, ever, see you with Marco again, even talking to him in a way I don’t like…”

He tilted his head slightly, menace radiating from him.

“Trust me, I won’t think twice. I’ll end your life.”

Aria’s breath caught in her throat. No part of her doubted he meant it.

She was crying now, silently, her hands pressed to the cold wall behind her.

Damian stared at her a moment longer, then finally let go of her shoulders.

She nearly collapsed but caught herself, bracing one hand against the wall for balance.

“You think this marriage will be easy?” he asked, stepping back. “It won’t be. You’re not here for love or comfort. You’re here because you made a choice. You walked into the fire... and now you’ll burn with it.”

Aria wiped her tears quickly, her whole body trembling. She wanted to scream, to defend herself, but the words wouldn’t come.

Then he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind him, leaving her standing there, broken.

Broken…