Chapter 3

Aria's POV 

I tried to open my eyes, but the blinding ache behind them wouldn’t let me. It felt like someone had swung a hammer to my skull. I lay there for a moment, breathing through the pounding in my head, letting my eyes adjust to the sunlight seeping through the curtains.

The light was too bright, like it had a vendetta against me. I squinted and rolled over, groaning into my pillow. My mouth felt dry, my throat scratchy, and my body felt heavy. 

Just as I was about to sit up, I caught the sound of voices coming from downstairs. It sounded faint, hushed, almost like whispers. 

I strained to hear, holding my breath, but the words melted into each other, too soft and low to make out.

Pushing back the covers, I swung my legs over the bed and sat up, rubbing my eyes. My head throbbed harder, pain slicing through my body. I was about to curse out loud when my gaze landed on the mirror by my bed. 

And that’s when everything came flooding back. The walk. The man. His hand in my hair. The way my feet scraped against the pavement as he dragged me. The parked car.

And then…… Damon.

Damon tackling him like something out of a movie. Damon’s fists coming down over and over until the man went limp. Damon’s voice asking if I was okay. Damon carrying me.

The memory made my stomach twist. 

I pushed myself off the bed, using the wall for balance. My legs felt weak, my head heavy, but I wasn’t about to lie there while they talked about me downstairs. 

Each step down the staircase made the railing more and more necessary. I gripped it tightly, my palm sweating against the wood.

When I finally reached the bottom, I stepped into the kitchen….. and froze.

Jenna and Matt were huddled together near the counter, whispering. But it wasn’t them that made me stop in my tracks.

It was him.

Damon, sitting on one of the kitchen stools like he belonged there. His posture was relaxed, elbows on the counter, head tilted slightly as if he’d been listening to whatever they were saying.

“Oh, sweetheart, what are you doing up?” Jenna gasped, rushing toward me with Matt right behind her. “You should still be in bed.”

“I’m fine, Jenna,” I said, brushing her off gently. “Don’t worry.” Then I nodded toward Damon, narrowing my eyes slightly. “But what’s he doing here?”

Jenna hesitated, her gaze flicking between us. “He saved you last night, Aria. When that man attacked you.” Her voice softened. “It’s a good thing he was there.”

I stared at her, something dark flickering behind my casual nod, then I turned my eyes to Damon. He just sat there, watching me. Not smirking. Not talking. Just… watching.

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” Jenna said after a moment, touching my arm. “Call me if you need anything. We’ll be in the living room. Come on, Matt.”

Matt leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my hair. “We’re so glad you’re okay, kiddo.” Then he followed Jenna out, leaving me and Damon in a silence thick enough to slice with a kitchen knife.

I didn’t know what to say. Maybe it was because I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked last night, the way his jaw tightened with anger, his eyes wild as he fought that man. Or maybe it was because, for once, I didn’t hate him.

And maybe that was the problem.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

For a second, I thought he didn’t hear me. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just kept looking at me like he was trying to figure me out.

Then he stood, slow and deliberate, and closed the space between us. He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint cut on his knuckle. His hand came down gently on mine, which was resting on the kitchen table.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said quietly. His voice was low, rougher than usual. “You should get some rest. I just… needed to see for myself that you were.”

My heart skipped. At that moment, he didn’t look like the Damon Romero I’d built up in my head….. the smug, irritating boy who seemed to exist solely to annoy me. He looked… different and real.

I opened my mouth to say something..anything at all but a knock at the front door cut through the moment.

He stepped back, the warmth of his hand leaving mine. The air felt colder instantly.

“I’ll see you at school, Aria.” He smiled - not his usual cocky grin, but something softer. And before I could reply, he was gone.

—

‘Just great’ I thought as my parents' voices floated into the kitchen like unwelcome static. My stomach sank.

I knew I was in for a show.

Dragging my feet, I stepped into the living room to find them sitting across from Jenna and Matt. My mother was perched on the edge of the couch, manicured hands clasped together like she was in the middle of a dramatic scene from one of her socialite lunches. My father sat back, stiff as ever, scanning me like I was some project he needed to manage.

“Aria, are you okay?” Mom was on her feet in an instant, sweeping toward me. “You need to be lying down.” Her hands fluttered over my arms like she expected to find cracks.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I said flatly. “Didn’t hit my head hard enough to think you genuinely cared.”

Her face froze, just for a second, before slipping back into her practiced mask.

“Don’t speak to your mother that way, young lady,” my father cut in, his voice sharp. Almost the ‘loving father’ I scoffed at the thought. 

I rolled my eyes. “I’m going back to my room, Jenna.” I gave her a small, apologetic smile, already turning toward the stairs.

But she stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. “Aria, there’s something your parents want to talk to you about. I think you need to sit and listen.”

The worried look in her eyes made me pause. And Jenna didn’t worry easily.

I looked from her to my parents, trying to figure out what fresh hell this was going to be.

Matt came over and took my hand gently, guiding me toward the sofa. “Just hear them out, kiddo,” he murmured.

Reluctantly, I sat. My dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“We’ve made a decision,” he began, his tone clipped and businesslike, one he used in board meetings. “Given… recent events, we think it’s best you come back home to the city with us.”

My jaw dropped.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. “You dump me here because you’re ‘too busy’ to deal with me, and now you want to uproot me again?” I unconsciously gestured toward the window, where Damon’s house stood, though I didn’t know why. “No. Not happening.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he said, his voice firm.

Mom jumped in, her voice dripping with the kind of faux-concern only she could pull off. “Sweetheart, we just want you safe. After what happened last night….”

“What happened last night was handled,” I snapped. “By someone who actually gave a damn about whether I lived or not.”

I could feel Jenna and Matt’s eyes on me, their silent support steady in the air between us.

My dad’s jaw tightened. “Aria, you’ve been given every privilege…”

“Oh, here we go,” I cut him off. “The ‘privilege’ speech. You think throwing money at me makes up for the fact that you’ve been absent my entire life?”

“Enough,” he said, his voice sharp.

I sat back, crossing my arms. “Fine. But I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

Mom exchanged a look with Dad, one I

couldn’t quite read. Something was going on here…. something they weren’t saying.

And I intended to find out what.