Chapter 22

Aria’s POV

I was dolled up again like the pretty little doll I was. This time to a company launch. Valcor Group. Everyone in the city knew what it really was. A front. A company mostly used for money laundering by drug dealers and men like Damien. I sat still as the car stopped in front of the glass building glowing in silver lights. My chest felt tight but I kept my chin high.

He opened the door for me like a gentleman he wasn’t. His hand stretched toward me, long fingers, rings catching the lights. He looked perfect tonight in a black suit tailored like it was made on his body. The sharp cut of his jaw, the coldness in his eyes, the kind of face that dared anyone to breathe wrong near him.

And then there was me. His doll. My dress was silk, dark emerald, hugging me in ways that made it hard to breathe. My hair was pinned in soft curls that brushed my shoulders. A shade of red sat on my lips that didn’t feel like mine. All eyes turned when I stepped out. I felt it. The hush, the pull, the weight of stares crawling on my skin.

I wanted to fold in on myself. I wanted to disappear back into the car. But I couldn’t. I had to tuck it all in. Fear, nerves, shame. Everything hidden behind a smile that was soft enough to pass for charm.

His hand pressed against the small of my back as we walked in together. To anyone looking it was possessive and proud. To me it was a warning, a constant reminder that I belonged here only because he said so. The cameras flashed. The voices murmured. Champagne glasses clinked. The world looked expensive and loud but all I could hear was the thump of my heart.

Inside, chandeliers hung from the high ceiling and the air smelled like money, like wine, like perfume too heavy to breathe. Everyone looked at Damien with respect or fear or both. And then they looked at me like a prize. Like I was a decoration he brought to shine next to him. I smiled again, because that was what was expected.

We walked slowly through the crowd. His hand never left me. He shook hands with men in suits, laughed lightly at words I didn’t catch, leaned down once to whisper something that made one man’s smile falter. Damien had that effect. He didn’t need to raise his voice to ruin someone.

I stayed close. I played my part. But the stares followed me like shadows. Women looked at me with envy or with warning. Men stared too long, like I was something they could have if they dared. My chest grew tighter.

Then it happened.

Damien had stepped aside for a minute to speak with a partner. His grip left my back for the first time all night. And in that tiny space, one man moved closer. He wasn’t anyone important, not in Damien’s world. But his eyes ran over me, slow and greedy, and he smiled like he thought he had the right.

“Good evening,” he said softly, leaning closer. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

I froze. My lips parted but nothing came out.

It was only a minute. Only one breath of time. But Damien turned and saw.

His eyes locked on us from across the room. I saw the shift in him before he even moved. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw set, and then he was walking back, each step measured, each step a warning that spread across the floor like a ripple. The man didn’t even notice until Damien was right there, his shadow swallowing both of us whole.

Damien’s smile was thin, dangerous. “You enjoy staring at what’s mine?”

The man stuttered, tried to step back. “I…I didn’t mean any…”

Damien didn’t let him finish. He snapped his fingers. His men appeared from nowhere, two shadows in suits. “Drag him out,” Damien said, his voice like ice. “Teach him what happens when you look at what you can’t afford.”

The man’s face drained of color as they grabbed him. He tried to speak, tried to beg, but his voice drowned under the music and laughter around us. They hauled him out like trash.

My stomach twisted. My hands shook. I turned to Damien. “Stop,” I whispered, tugging at his sleeve. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t hurt him. He didn’t do anything, Damien, please…”

He didn’t even look at me. His eyes stayed sharp, his lips curved in something like pleasure as he watched the man disappear.

“Damien,” I begged louder, desperate. “Please. Don’t. Just let it go you don’t have to treat everybody like trash”

That was when his eyes finally cut to me. They burned.

Without a word he caught my wrist, his grip like steel, and pulled me through the crowd. People parted. Eyes followed. No one dared say a thing.

We walked fast, his hand digging into me, his silence worse than words. My heels clicked against marble, the sound frantic like my heart. He pushed open the door and shoved me into the car. His men stayed back, his driver silent.

The ride home was quiet but it wasn’t peace. It was the kind of silence that filled with storms. I kept my eyes on the window, afraid to breathe too loud.

When we reached the penthouse he pulled me out again, dragged me inside, slammed the door behind us. The walls trembled with the force of it.

He pushed me against the wall, one hand gripping my neck. My breath hitched, my body stiff against his hold. His face was close, his words sharp.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. Do you understand?”

My throat burned but I forced the words out. “You’re a monster.”

His grip tightened. Rage flickered in his eyes, wild and raw.

“I will never submit to you,” I spat, my voice shaking but loud. And then I did it. I spat in his face.

The room froze. His body went still. And then everything broke.

He slammed me down on the floor, hard enough that pain shot through my side. A vase shattered against the wall, glass scattering like sparks. His chest heaved, his eyes dark, his control fraying.

I curled on the floor, gasping, but I didn’t take it back. I couldn’t. He looked at me with no remorse at all and started walking towards me

Then his phone rang. Loud. Piercing. He ripped it out of his pocket, his chest still rising and falling. He answered with a growl.

It was Knox.

The air shifted as he listened. The anger on his face cracked into something else. Shock. His knees almost buckled, his hand pressing against the table for balance. I had never seen him like that.

“What?” His voice was hoarse.

I pushed myself up slowly, clutching my side where his hand had slammed me into the floor, my breaths uneven. I couldn’t stop watching him.

Knox’s voice carried through the phone, not all the words clear, but enough. Damien’s eyes widened. His lips parted. His hand dragged down his face, fingers trembling against his jaw.

“She was with Raul Ximenes…” His voice was barely a whisper now, repeating what Knox had told him.

My chest tightened. Raul Ximenes. Even I knew that name, one of the bloodiest men tied to the cartels.

“It wasn’t Elma. The body in the morgue wasn’t her. The trace had failed”

I didn’t understand at first. I only knew that Damien was breaking in front of me. The man who never bent, never wavered, stood in the middle of the room looking like the ground had given way under him.

His shoulders slumped forward, his hand shaking against his temple like the weight of his own thoughts was crushing him. His eyes closed tight, his chest rising with breaths that weren’t steady, weren’t strong. For the first time since I had known him, Damien looked close to tears but the tears looked like a relief.

Knox’s voice didn’t stop over the phone

“Rivera was moving more girls. They would have to identify them soon. Time was running out.”

Damien’s shoulders slumped. His hand shook against his forehead. His eyes closed, and for the first time since I had known him, whoever that girl was to him she was very important to him for Damien to be that way.

Damien’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, like the words were fire in his mouth. His other hand clenched around the phone until I thought it might shatter.

I stayed on the floor, glass biting into my palms, my breath shallow. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak paying attention to him.

The man who had slammed me down minutes ago now stood there looking like the ground itself had been pulled from under him.

Finally, he ended the call without a word. The phone dropped onto the couch, forgotten. His body followed, sinking into the cushions, his suit wrinkling under the weight of him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His back rose and fell in uneven rhythm, like he was holding in something far too big for him.

The room went heavy with silence.

I stayed where I was, broken on the floor, arms wrapped around myself. He sat there, worn out, trembling with breaths he couldn’t seem to steady.

And I didn’t know what scared me more. The monster who had slammed me down minutes ago. Or the broken man I was looking at now.