All Chapters of THE PRICE OF A BILLIONAIRE’S LOVE: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Aria’s hands were drenched in Damon’s blood. Her fingers shook violently as she pressed them against the wound on his side, trying to stop the bleeding. Damon’s breath came out in shallow, uneven gasps, each one weaker than the last. “Damon… Damon, stay with me,” Aria whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief and terror. His eyelids fluttered. “Aria…” The word was barely a breath. Barely alive. “No. No, don’t close your eyes.” Tears dripped onto his shirt. “Look at me. Damon—look at me.” Behind them, Ethan knelt beside Adrian, handcuffing him despite Adrian’s shaky attempts to fight back. “You shot him,” Adrian murmured, dazed. “He’s going to die. He’s going to die because of me.” Ethan yanked the cuffs tight. “You’ll worry about that in prison.” Adrian laughed weakly, the sound torn and hollow. “Prison? You think prison scares me?” Aria didn’t respond. She was too focused on the dying man in her arms. Damon’s fingers twitched against her thigh, trying—failing—to reach

Aria sat on the cold metal bench outside the emergency doors, her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles drained of color. Damon’s blood had dried on her fingers, staining them a dark, haunting red. She didn’t try to wash it off. It was the only piece of him she still had. Ethan stood nearby, pacing with restless steps, checking his watch every minute though time moved painfully slow. He kept glancing at Aria, worry tightening his jaw. “How long has it been?” she whispered. “Twenty minutes,” Ethan answered. Aria shook her head. “It feels like hours…” A nurse rushed past them. Aria stood instantly. “Please—can you tell me if Damon Reed is—” The nurse only shook her head. “They’re still working on him, miss.” Her heart cracked a little more. Ethan gently guided her back to the bench. “Sit. You need to conserve your strength.” “I don’t care about my strength,” Aria murmured. “I only care about his.” For the first time since Aria had known him, Ethan’s voice soft

Hours passed. Aria didn’t move from Damon’s side, not even for a second. Nurses came and went, checking monitors, adjusting IVs, whispering updates—but Aria barely heard any of it. Her entire world was the man lying unconscious beside her. His breathing was still shallow. His skin still too pale. But he was alive. And that was enough to keep her going. The door opened quietly. Ethan stepped inside with two cups of coffee. He placed one on the table beside her. “You need this,” he said softly. Aria didn’t look away from Damon. “Thank you. I’m not hungry.” “It’s not food,” Ethan said, taking the empty chair next to her. “It’s strength.” Aria managed a weak, tired smile. Her eyes were red, her voice soft. “I’ll drink it later.” Ethan didn’t push. He simply watched her for a moment, his gaze gentle. “You haven’t slept,” he said. “I can’t,” Aria whispered. “Not until he opens his eyes.” A heavy silence filled the room. Then Ethan spoke again, his tone lower, almost hesitant.

Damon slept deeply, his breaths soft and uneven but steady. Machines hummed quietly around him, their pulsing lights reflecting off the glass walls of the ICU. Aria hadn’t moved from her spot. Hours had passed. Maybe more. Time had become meaningless. She kept holding his hand, her thumb drawing gentle circles across his skin. Every so often, she leaned closer, just to hear his breathing. It grounded her. It reminded her— He was still here. A soft knock broke the silence. Aria lifted her head as the door opened, and Ethan stepped inside with a guarded expression. His eyes immediately scanned Damon, checking everything silently before turning to her. “You okay?” he asked. “No,” Aria said honestly. “But I will be… if he recovers.” Ethan nodded and walked closer, lowering his voice. “We got news.” Aria tensed. “What kind of news?” “About Adrian.” Her pulse quickened. “What about him?” Ethan crossed his arms, jaw tight. “He’s awake. The police have him under guard. They want

Damon drifted in and out of sleep throughout the day, his body fighting to recover while Aria remained faithfully at his bedside. Every time he stirred—even slightly—Aria’s heart jumped. By late afternoon, the doctors dimmed the lights to help him rest, and the soft golden glow from the hallway spilled into the room like a quiet promise of hope. Aria sat beside him, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He wasn’t fully awake, but he wasn’t fully unconscious either—that strange, fragile space in between life and pain. Suddenly, Damon’s body tensed. His breath hitched. His fingers twitched. His eyes moved beneath his eyelids, fast, frantic. A nightmare. Aria leaned forward instantly. “Damon? Damon, it’s okay. You’re safe.” But his breath grew harsher, his chest rising too quickly. His jaw clenched—the same expression he wore the night he’d taken the bullet. “No,” he muttered under his breath. “Not her—” Aria’s stomach dropped. Her hand flew to his cheek. “Dam