LOGINDamien's P.O.V
Something was wrong with Aria.
At first, I told myself I was imagining it.
People had bad days, they got stressed and sometimes, people needed space. But after nearly a week of watching her carefully, I knew I wasn't imagining anything.
She was avoiding me.
Not openly enough for anyone else to notice. But I noticed, because I had become embarrassingly aware of every small thing she did.
Every glance, every smile, every
Aria’s P.O.VThe sight of him—hard, pulsing, and completely unleashed—sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through me. I was already trembling, my body humming from the climax he had just wrung out of me, but the look in his eyes told me he was far from finished.He didn't want tenderness; he wanted to claim every inch of me, to leave me so thoroughly marked by him that I wouldn't be able to think of any other man for a week."Now, Aria," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Sit."I moved to obey, my movements sluggish and heavy with lust. I shifted my weight, attempting to lower myself onto him, but Damien wasn't interested in a simple ride. He gripped my waist with bruising force, his fingers digging into my hips, and shoved me forward."Not like that," he hissed. "On your hands and knees. Now."I gasped, my palms slapping
Aria’s P.O.VThe air inside the car was thick, charged with a volatile mixture of lust and lingering anger. Damien’s kiss had been a claim, a brutal reminder of who I belonged to, but as he pulled back, his eyes weren't soft. They were dark, shimmering with a possessive hunger that made my stomach flip. He didn't let me go; his hands remained clamped on my hips, pinning me against him as I straddled his lap."You liked it," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous vibration against my lips. "The way he looked at you. The way he touched you. You enjoyed the thrill of being wanted by someone else while I was standing right there.""I didn't, Damien, I swear—""Liar," he whispered, though there was a trace of a smirk on his lips—a predatory one. "Your heart is racing, Aria. Your skin is flushing. You’re terrified, and you’re turned on. You love the dan
Hey guys!Sooo...it's my birthday month! And this is the only time in the year when I actually take a break from writing and just...relax and let go.I'll be back to working on this story again in August...I know it's a long time and that's why I'll leave you all hot and bothered with two spicy chapters to keep you awake at night!But this is also a kind of mental health break for me, so I don't crash and burn or end up at a hospital!So, see you in August! And till then, happy reading and stay healthy!LOVAGEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Aria’s P.O.VThe grip on my waist was like a vice, unyielding and absolute. Damien didn't just lead me out of the opera house; he practically dragged me, his stride long and purposeful, leaving a trail of stunned silence behind us.My heart was hammering against my ribs, a cocktail of adrenaline and sheer bewilderment. I could still feel the ghost of Steven’s fingers on my wrist, but that sensation was quickly being overwritten by the heat of Damien’s palm searing through my clothes.The moment we hit the humid air of the parking lot, I managed to find my voice, though it came out breathless."Damien! Stop!" I gasped, stumbling slightly as he steered me toward the sleek, black sedan. "Was that really necessary? He’s a very popular producer, loved by thousands of people! He has the power to pull the plug on this entire project. Do you have any idea what that would do to the production—to the budget?"Damien stopped abruptly, spinning me around to face him. His eyes were dark, the pupil
Aria’s P.O.VThe air in the car on the way to Belladonna was thick, but for the first time in weeks, it wasn't heavy with doubt. It was charged with something else—a simmering, protective energy that radiated off Damien in waves.After the night we had spent entwined in each other's arms, the world felt different. The ghosts of my sister’s manipulations and the fear of abandonment had retreated, replaced by the echoing certainty of his words: I already chose.But as the opera house came into view, the reality of our professional lives crashed back into the bubble of our intimacy. I looked at Damien, his profile sharp and stern, his grip on the armrest was tight.I knew that look. It was the look of a man who was barely tolerating the world around him because he only wanted to be with me."Damien," I whispered, reaching over to lay my hand on his arm. "Please. When we go in there, just... be professional. Don't do anything rash. Don't show open displeasure or start a war in the middle
Damien’s P.O.VI held her as if she were made of the finest, most fragile glass, terrified that if I loosened my grip even a fraction, she would shatter into a thousand jagged pieces right there in my arms.Aria was shaking, her sobs transitioning from the violent, racking wails of a broken heart to the soft, shuddering gasps of someone who had finally found a place to land.I didn't care about the cold dinner on the counter or the chaos waiting for me back at the hospital. In this moment, the only thing that existed in the entire world was the weight of her against my chest and the salt of her tears soaking into my shirt.I felt a fierce, protective rage simmering beneath my skin—not at her, never at her—but at every single person who had ever made her feel like she was a footnote in her own life.Slowly, I maneuvered us toward the bed. I didn't let go of her for a second, guiding her back until we collapsed together onto the mattress. We didn't strip. We didn't seek the distraction
Aria’s P.O.VThe heavy door of the chauffeured sedan clicked shut, sealing us away from the opulent chaos of the opera house. The silence that followed was immediate and thick, broken only by the muted hum of the engine and the soft rhythmic clicking of the turn signal.We sat in the plush leather
Aria’s P.O.VThe warmth in my chest, the fleeting sense of victory I had felt when Steven praised my intellect, vanished as quickly as it had arrived. I looked at Amara, and the mask was back. The fury had been replaced by a chilling, clinical calculati
Aria’s P.O.VMy stomach dropped so fast it felt like the floor had disappeared beneath me.This.This was exactly what I had been afraid of a
Aria’s P.O.VBy the time we arrived at Belladonna Opera House, I had already imagined at least twelve different ways this day could go horribly wrong.None of them ended well.I sat beside Damien in the back seat, pretending to review notes on my tablet while my stomach slowly twisted itself into k







