Chapter 4 — The Rescue

Aria’s POV

And God, that look. Heat. Surprise. A flash of something darker that punches straight through me.

I step in, heels clicking like I own the place, sliding between him and the mountain of muscle with all the calm in the world. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears, but my voice comes out steady, cold.

“This man is with me.”

The bartender blinks. “Lady, he can’t pay.”

“Put it on my tab.” I pull my black card from my clutch, hold it up just high enough for the whole room to see. The bouncer’s eyes narrow. The bartender’s widen. Whispers ripple through the bar like wildfire.

I tilt my chin. “Or would you prefer I call your manager? Or the press? I’m sure they’d love a story about how your establishment manhandles decorated veterans.”

The bouncer hesitates. Logan lets out a sharp laugh behind me, cocky, dangerous. “You hear that? She’s got you by the balls.”

“Logan,” I hiss under my breath, but I feel him lean closer, his warmth searing my back.

The bartender mutters something and snatches the card from my hand, swiping it fast. No more questions. No more arguments. Because money always talks, and mine screams.

Transaction approved. Of course.

I turn back to Logan. His chest is still heaving, fists still flexing like he’s half a second away from starting a brawl anyway. That dangerous energy radiates off him, but his eyes—God, his eyes—are locked on me like I’m the only damn thing in the room.

“Come on,” I say softly, sliding my hand down his arm, tugging. His muscle is hot and solid beneath my fingers, and the contact jolts me so hard I nearly flinch. “Before you get yourself arrested.”

For a second, he doesn’t move. He just stares, like he’s memorizing the way my hand looks on him. Then he exhales, long and rough, and lets me pull him toward the door.

I grab his arm, tugging him toward the door. His muscle is hard, hot under my hand, and it jolts something in me I don’t want to admit.

Outside, the night air hits cold and sharp. I drop his arm, turning away, but he doesn’t move.

“Aria.” His voice is rough, scraped raw.

And damn it all, my heart stutters.

I force myself to meet his gaze. Big mistake. It’s not cocky now. It’s darker. Hungrier. Like the city lights behind me don’t exist, like I’m the only damn thing keeping him upright.

“I should walk away,” I whisper, more to myself than him.

He smirks. That infuriating, dangerous smirk. “Yeah, but you won’t. You had your chance inside. You could’ve let me get tossed out on my ass. Could’ve let me fight. But you didn’t.” His head tilts, eyes narrowing. “You came running, princess.”

The word cuts and soothes all at once.

I square my shoulders. “I came because you were making a fool of yourself. And you're in this city because of me.”

“Liar.” His laugh is low, humorless, curling right under my skin. “You came because you still want me. Even after lying about who the hell you are.”

The words hit like a slap. My breath catches, shame slicing sharp through my chest.

“I told you I was sorry,” I bite out. “I never meant—”

“Meant to catfish a soldier?” he interrupts, stepping closer. Too close. His body crowds mine, heat pressing into my skin. “Funny thing, sweetheart. You sold me a lie, and I still can’t stop picturing what you’d look like under me.”

My pulse slams so hard it hurts. I should shove him back, call him every name in the book, remind him I’m not some twenty-something he can toss around. But the way his eyes burn into mine, the way his voice dips lower, rougher… God help me, I don’t move.

“Careful,” I murmur, chin lifting. “You’re talking to a woman, not a little girl off your app.”

His grin spreads slow, wolfish. “Good. Because I’m not looking for little girls. I want the woman who dragged me out of a fight in her heels and paid my tab like she owns the city.” His mouth is too close, his voice too dangerous, every word dripping heat I can’t afford to feel.

“That woman I want,” he says.

And like a fool, I almost lean in. Almost give him everything he wants right here on the sidewalk with the city watching.

I drag in a breath sharp enough to slice my lungs and force my spine straight. “You don’t get to want me, Logan. You don’t even know me.”

His smirk curves, slow and lethal. “I know enough. You’ve got power. Money. A car that probably costs more than my entire unit made in 4 years. You like control. But the second you saw me, you wanted me.”

The words cut deeper than he realizes. My chest goes cold, my stomach twisting.

Money. Control. Like that’s all I am.

I swallow hard, fury burning hotter than the shame coiled low in my body. “So that’s it? I’m just your personal ATM in heels?”

For the first time, his grin falters, confusion flickering in his eyes. But I don’t give him the chance to fix it.

I spin, heels snapping against the pavement, walking fast toward the limo before he can see the crack in me. Fury sparks under my skin, pushing me forward, but my body betrays me—still trembling from the way his eyes claimed me, like he already owned every broken piece.

And I don’t look back.

To be continued…