Spicy Desires

Aria's POV

I never thought Valentine's Day would be the day my heart would truly break.

Liam had reserved a table at La Perle, the crown jewel of Manhattan dining—crystal chandeliers glowing above us, the air humming with soft jazz and the scent of roses at every table. It should have been the perfect Valentine's date, the kind you tell your kids about one day.

"You look beautiful tonight, Aria," Liam whispered, reaching across the table to take my hand.

I smiled, trying to ignore how distant he'd been lately. Ever since Sophia Clarke came back to New York two months ago, my relationship with Liam had changed. Still, I clung to hope. After all, we were getting married in just five days.

"I'm glad we could spend Valentine's Day together," I said softly.

Liam nodded, but his eyes seemed distracted. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it."

Despite the words, I couldn't help remembering all the dinner dates he'd canceled recently. Always with the same excuse: "Sophia needs me."

Just as our appetizers arrived, I noticed Liam's eyes widen. Following his gaze, my heart sank.

Sophia Clarke stood there, radiant in a white dress that clung to her slender frame, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes—those large, seemingly innocent blue eyes—scanned the room until they landed on our table. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Well, isn't this adorable?" Sophia's voice rang out as she glided toward us, her white silk dress clinging like it was painted on. "Liam, Aria—what are the odds? Manhattan's massive, yet somehow I keep stumbling into you two." Her smile was sugar-sweet, her eyes anything but.

I bit the inside of my cheek. This was the third "coincidence" this month.

Liam stood up immediately. "Sophia, what a surprise."

The warmth in his voice was unmistakable.

"I'm just meeting some friends," she said, her eyes darting to me briefly before focusing back on Liam. "But they seem to be running late."

"Why don't you join us while you wait?" Liam said—too quickly, too eagerly.

I was momentarily stunned, yet my chest felt like being struck by a blunt object, a dull ache spreading outward.

Our romantic Valentine's dinner had just become a party of three.

As the evening progressed, Sophia dominated the conversation with stories that seemed designed to remind Liam of their shared past. Each time, Liam would nod enthusiastically, lost in memories that didn't include me.

I sat there, invisible, watching as my fiancé and his first love flirted right in front of me.

"Sophia," I finally said, my patience wearing thin, "it's Valentine's Day. Liam and I were having a private dinner."

"Oh, Aria," Sophia's voice dripped with false sympathy. "Don't be so possessive. Liam and I are just old friends catching up. Isn't that right, Li?"

"Aria," Liam's voice was sharp. "Don't be so sensitive. Sophia's just making conversation."

I stared at him, stunned by the rebuke. This was supposed to be our night, and yet he was defending her?

"I should go," I said quietly, placing my napkin on the table. The pain of his betrayal was too much to bear.

Before I could stand, the sound of shattering glass filled the restaurant. A man's voice, loud and frantic, cut through the elegant atmosphere.

"SOPHIA! WHERE IS SHE?"

I saw a disheveled man in his thirties, wild-eyed and unsteady on his feet. What froze my blood wasn't his appearance, but the gun clutched in his trembling hand.

"Ryan," Sophia gasped from our table, her face draining of color.

"If I can't have you, no one will!" Ryan shouted, his voice breaking with emotion.

That was when everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Ryan's face contorted with rage. He raised his gun, aiming directly at Sophia.

Liam didn't even look at me. His chair screeched back as he bolted to Sophia, wrapping her up like she was the most precious thing in the world. His arms locked around her, his voice frantic, whispering promises I was never meant to hear.

And me? I was shoved out, left wide open to the barrel of the gun.

The gunshot was deafening.

I felt a searing pain across my upper arm as I fell to the floor. Warm blood seeped through my dress, but all I could focus on was the sight before me: Liam, wrapped protectively around Sophia, his body covering hers, his arms cradling her head.

He hadn't even looked at me. At that moment, I became invisible to him. In his eyes, there was only Sophia.

"Miss, are you alright?" A concerned waiter knelt beside me, eyes wide at the sight of blood on my sleeve.

Fortunately, I escaped with just a graze wound. When the gunshot rang out, security guards had tackled Ryan, causing his aim to veer off target. The bullet only grazed my arm instead of hitting me directly.

The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

Only when paramedics arrived did Liam finally notice me, his eyes widening when he saw the crimson stain spreading across my sleeve.

"Aria!" His face paled when he saw the blood. "Oh God, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I whispered, though nothing was fine. Nothing would ever be fine again.

"I'm so sorry," he stammered, helping me to my feet. "Sophia was closer to me, I just reacted. It happened so fast."

I nodded mechanically, accepting his explanation because the alternative was too painful to acknowledge. But the truth pounded in my head with each heartbeat – he didn't choose her because she was closer. He chose her because she was more important.

"We need to get you to a hospital," he insisted, finally showing concern as he examined my wound.

The emergency room was chaotic. As the doctor cleaned and stitched my arm, Liam paced nervously in the small treatment room.

"You scared me," he said, stopping to brush my hair from my face. "When I saw the blood..."

For a moment, I allowed myself to believe he truly cared. That maybe what happened at the restaurant was really just proximity and instinct, not a window into his heart.

Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and the way his face shifted—guilt, urgency, something I'd never seen directed at me—told me everything before he even said her name.

"It's Sophia," he murmured, almost apologetic. Like I should understand. Like it was normal to leave your fiancée bleeding while you ran to your ex.

"She says she's having an anxiety attack... I should take this."

"Go ahead," I said, my voice hollow.

"I'll be right back," he promised, but the door had barely closed behind him before I felt the tears I'd been holding back stream down my face.

By the time the doctor finished bandaging my arm, twenty minutes had passed. Liam hadn't returned.

"The bullet grazed you pretty deeply," the doctor explained. "You're lucky it didn't hit anything vital. I've prescribed some antibiotics and pain medication. You should have someone stay with you tonight."

I nodded silently, wondering who that someone would be, since my fiancé was clearly occupied elsewhere.

"Aria!" Lillian burst through the treatment room door, her eyes wild with worry. "I came as soon as I got your text. Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said automatically, though the lie felt heavy on my tongue.

Lillian looked around the empty room, her expression darkening. "Where's Liam?"

I couldn't meet her eyes. "He had to take a call."

"A call? You got shot and he's taking a call?" Her voice rose with each word. "Please tell me it's not who I think it is."

My silence was answer enough.

"No. I'm not letting this go anymore," she said, crossing her arms. "Twelve years, Aria. Twelve years you've loved him, and this is how he repays you?"

"Lili, please." I was too exhausted, too hurt to have this conversation."Can we just go, please? I don't want to stay at my place tonight. Dad would worry too much if he saw me like this."

By the time we reached her apartment, I could barely keep it together. As soon as I sat down, the lump in my throat could no longer be contained. Tears streamed down, dampening the sleeve of Lillian's shirt.Lillian sat next to me, holding my uninjured hand tightly, her warmth grounding me.

"You can't marry him, Aria," she said gently, brushing a tear off my cheek. "Not after this."

I shook my head, trying to breathe through the sobs. "I can't just walk away, Lili… I've loved him for twelve years."

"We've known each other since we were kids, Lili. He was there when my mom died. He held me through the worst nights of my life. He's been… everything. I can't just throw it all away because of one mistake."

"One mistake?" she echoed, her brows drawing together. "Aria, a man pulled a gun—and Liam ran to protect Sophia. Not you. That wasn't a slip-up, that was instinct. That was his heart reacting before his mouth could make excuses."

I stared down at the cold tile floor of the apartment, my throat tight, my chest aching. I didn't want to admit it… but I couldn't deny what I saw either.

"He told me it was nothing," I whispered hoarsely. "That they're just friends."

Lillian let out a shaky breath, then reached out and squeezed my uninjured hand. "I believe you love him. I do. But love isn't always enough. Especially when it's one-sided. And Aria… I think you're the only one holding on."

Her words were like knives, cutting deep into wounds already raw and bleeding. I felt my head pounding with an intense pain.

I knew Lillian was right.But how could I walk away now? Our families had planned this wedding for months. Everyone was expecting a fairytale ending to our twelve-year romance.

And despite everything, a small, foolish part of me still hoped our story could have a happy ending. That Liam would remember why he asked me to marry him in the first place. That the boy who had once promised to protect me would find his way back to me before it was too late.

"I'll give him one last chance," I whispered, wiping away the salt of my tears. My voice shook, but my words didn't. "Five days. If he can't prove I'm the woman he chooses, then I'm done. No more excuses. No more begging for scraps."

Lillian didn't argue. She just pulled me into her arms and held me like she had a hundred times before—when we were little girls.

Five days.

That's all I would give him.

After that… I'd have to find a way to give myself back to me.