(Damon’s POV)The city slept, but I couldn’t.The clock on the wall glowed past midnight. A single lamp threw a pale circle of light across the desk, illuminating the papers I hadn’t read and the glass of whiskey I hadn’t touched. The room was silent except for the low hum of rain against the windows — the kind of sound that reminded me too much of memory.Aria’s words still lingered in the air like a heartbeat I couldn’t quiet: “Whatever you’re hiding, you don’t have to hide it from me.”She said it with the kind of certainty that people who’ve never lost everything are capable of.I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to.But she didn’t know what it meant to lose faith in someone you thought was the rest of your life.I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.Elena Rhodes.The name itself was a scar — healed over, but still tender to the touch.Years ago, before Hale Corp became what it is now, there was a time when I
(Aria’s POV)For a few quiet days, it almost felt like peace.The world outside still buzzed with speculation — headlines, interviews, social media storms — but inside the penthouse, life settled into something close to normal. Damon worked late, I ran my foundation meetings, and for brief, ordinary moments, we shared space without speaking and somehow understood each other anyway.But normal, I was beginning to learn, was a fragile thing around him.It was Wednesday night when I noticed it first. Damon had come home late again, the raincoat still damp on his shoulders, his tie loosened but not removed. He didn’t say much, just nodded when I asked if he’d eaten and disappeared into his study.It wasn’t unusual. He’d always kept part of himself locked away, a world of secrets that had nothing to do with me. But lately, that door stayed shut longer. The calls he took were quieter. The tension in his shoulders, heavier.That night,
(Damon’s POV)The morning after the storm was deceptively calm.Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, catching the faint sheen left on the marble from where we’d tracked in rain the night before.Aria was still asleep in the guest room — though calling it that felt wrong now. The door was slightly open, a sliver of quiet light spilling through. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t want to leave for work.But the world wasn’t pausing just because I wanted to.I’d defied my board. I’d told a room full of men who had backed me for a decade that my marriage wasn’t their business. That Aria wasn’t disposable. That she wasn’t part of a plan.And now, they were calling.By the time I reached the office, the damage was already spreading.“Sir,” Michael, my assistant, said as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. “The Laren Group has postponed the merger discussions. Two of your investors request
(Aria’s POV)The rain hadn’t stopped since dawn.It drummed against the windows in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat—steady, relentless, unyielding.Outside, the city blurred into silver and gray. Inside, the world had grown too quiet.I sat curled on the edge of the sofa, half-watching the morning news. Damon’s name appeared again and again in bold letters:“Hale Defies Board in Emotional Defense of Wife.”“Billionaire Risking Empire for Love?”“The Power Couple That Broke the Internet.”Each headline twisted my stomach a little tighter.I’d told myself I could handle this—the whispers, the judgment—but watching the storm unfold in real time was something else entirely. They didn’t just talk about him. They talked about me. About the girl who didn’t belong in his world, the woman who must have been bought, the imposter who’d somehow fooled them all.When my phone buzzed, I almost didn’t look. But the name flashing on the
(Damon’s POV)The storm hit faster than I expected.By the time I reached the office the next morning, the interview clip had already circled the globe twice. My name trended in every market report; Aria’s in every gossip column.Half the world was praising us, the other half tearing us apart.Mara followed me into my office, tablet in hand, her expression unreadable. “The board’s called an emergency meeting for ten.”“Of course they have.” I dropped my briefcase on the desk, loosening my tie. “Let me guess — they’re not congratulating me.”“They think you’ve compromised the company’s image.”“By defending my wife?”“They’re calling it an emotional lapse.”I laughed once, low and sharp. “They should be careful throwing words like that around.”She hesitated. “Damon… they’ll ask you to step back from the spotlight. To separate your personal life from the brand.”Meaning: from her.The word separate sat like a stone in m
(Aria’s POV)The morning began with silence.Not peace — silence. The kind that holds its breath before a storm.I’d been awake since before dawn, sitting by the wide windows of Damon’s penthouse, watching the city crawl to life beneath the fog. My reflection stared back at me from the glass — hair curled neatly, eyes outlined carefully, but inside I felt anything but composed.Today wasn’t just another public appearance. It was the interview — the one that would decide whether the world believed our marriage was real or a headline fantasy.My phone buzzed with another message:“You don’t owe them anything. Just breathe. – Mara”I tried to. But the air felt heavier than usual, full of everything we hadn’t said.Behind me, I heard Damon’s low voice. “You’re up early.”He was standing in the hallway, dressed in a charcoal suit that looked like it had been made for him — because it probably had. His tie was undone, hanging loose around