Chapter 4

Damian’s POV

“Let’s get to our main talk,” she said softly, swaying her long black silk hair over one shoulder. Her hands rested lightly on my shoulders, her touch measured, practiced — but it carried warmth all the same.

“What do you do, Mr. Stranger?”

Her voice sounded like melody, smooth and deliberate. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m a business owner,” I replied.

Her brows lifted. “You own a conglomerate?” she asked curiously, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Something like that,” I said with a small laugh. “You’re quite smart.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said, her gaze drifting across the suite. “No wonder you can afford this kind of luxury.”

“You here for the first time?” I asked, loosening the top button of my shirt.

“Yes. This place is a seven-star hotel,” she said, admiring the decor with wide, almost childlike wonder.

“Let me help you with that,” she offered, her fingers moving to undo the remaining buttons. Our eyes met — once, then again. Each time felt like a silent question neither of us could answer.

Before I could think twice, she leaned in, and our lips met for the first time — soft, unsure, but real.

“You’re… quite something, Mr. Stranger,” she whispered. “Is this your first time with the agency?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “And call me Damian.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You mean Mr. Damian?”

“Just Damian,” I said with a faint grin. “What is it?”

She bit her manicured nail, smiling nervously. “Well, our clients never give their names. It’s part of the policy.”

“Aria,” I said, smirking. “Leave the policy aside.”

Her face froze. I saw the surprise flicker in her eyes when I said her name. Silence filled the room, thick and uncertain.

Why would a woman this beautiful — so poised, so young — choose this kind of work? She didn’t seem like she belonged here.

“You do this agency work for a living?” I asked quietly, breaking the silence.

The question seemed to cut deeper than I intended. Her eyes lowered to the polished marble floor.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I won’t judge you.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “I’m in the city’s college,” she said finally. “I do this to support myself and my family. It’s not much, but it helps.”

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice softer now. “I should probably break your Vice Chancellor’s head for not giving you a scholarship.”

She laughed, the sound like sunlight after rain. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” I said with mock seriousness. “You’d think with how much the ministry preaches about ‘supporting students’ that they’d actually sponsor a few.”

She laughed again, louder this time, rubbing my back lightly. “You sound like a politician.”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m good at negotiations,” I said with a grin.

We both burst out laughing.

“I’m in my final year,” she said between chuckles. “So no need to worry. You know how our government loves enlarging their funds.”

Her giggle faded into a smile that lingered. Her eyes — calm, dark, and searching — met mine again. I reached for her hand and pressed a light kiss against it.

“Have you ever been betrayed by someone you loved?” I asked suddenly, not sure why the words left my mouth.

She blinked, surprised. “Yes… are you okay?”

“I liked someone once,” I said, my voice low. “She promised to stay, but she married someone else — a business rival, actually. I thought I knew what loyalty looked like.”

“That’s heartbreaking,” she said softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “But it shows you’re human.”

For the first time in a long while, I felt like myself again — not the CEO, not the man burdened by headlines or contracts — just a person talking to another under the dim hotel light.

“Don’t tell me you’re a snitch,” I teased.

“Oh my God!” she laughed. “You’re something else!”

Her laughter filled the room again, and I found myself wanting to hear it one more time, and another after that.

“Hope I’ll see you again,” I said, half-joking, half-hoping.

“That might not be possible,” she said softly. “The agency doesn’t allow it.”

I sighed. “Rules again.”

She looked at me with a gentler expression now. “Meanwhile… if she truly loved you, she would have stayed. But now that you’ve seen the truth, you have to move on. You’ve got responsibilities. She’s out there living her life — and you should live yours too.”

Her words were simple, but they hit like something honest and sharp. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead — gentle, almost healing.

“You have to bury the hatchet,”she whispered.

I smiled faintly. “Like you would for this night?” 

She smiled back, her lips curving mischievously.

I grinned my voice low “That’ll be tempting. You’re… hard to resist.” 

“Careful,” she said softly, her eyes locking with mine. “That sounded like a promise.”