AriaThe doorbell blares just as I strap on my shoes.Talk about perfect timing. I head to my bed to grab my purse. The ‘nannies’ Damon hired had just left a few minutes ago, but I have to admit, they did a fantastic job on my face - I look ravishingly beautiful.I open the door to find Damon standing outside, his hands tucked into his pockets, looking annoyingly handsome like always. I look up to meet his gaze, but his eyes are elsewhere, scanning me from head to toe with an assessing glance. I step out of the apartment and close the door behind me“Do I meet your expectations, Mr Stone? I’m not dressed like I’m going to a park, am I?” I ask, the sarcasm in my voice finally catching his attention.He clears his throat, “This will do for tonight,” He says, then turns away without another glance and walks to the elevator.Would it kill this man to be civil? Who raised him? Wolves? I shake my head and proceed into the elevator on his tail.“The ‘nannies’ you hired did a pretty good job,
AriaI plaster a wide smile on my face as Damon leads me to sit.“It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so much,” I say, bowing slightly on my seat beside Damon. His mother is sat at the right, while his father is at the head of the table. She must be his favourite wife.There’s an awkward silence as I look around the dining table, scanning their faces to gauge their reactions to my presence. Michael Stone looks at me with an unreadable expression, studying me in an attempt to find something that gives me away. Damon has so much resemblance to his father, especially with his eyes.I smile at him and avert my eyes, shifting it to the person sitting by his left. It’s Damon’s stepmother, Grace Stone. I spent the past week familiarising myself with their names, looks, traits – you name it.She meets my eyes and shoots me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her son, James, is sitted beside her, gaping at me like he just saw a ghost. He averts his eyes from me quickly when I meet his
Aria"Yes. You."Joshua's smirk irritates me in a way that makes me want to both slap him and look away. Yet, I can’t seem to pull my eyes from his. The heat creeping up my cheeks is undeniable.I shoot him a glare, my disbelief evident. "Excuse me?" I snap. "Are you seriously hitting on me outside the bathroom?"He shrugs, completely unfazed by my reaction. "Relax, Aria. I'm joking. Sort of. You’re beautiful, though. And technically, you’re not married yet."I fold my arms, a wave of disgust washing over me. "You followed me out here just to say that?"He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I’m just saying, if my brother ever messes up—and trust me, he will—you have options. Namely, me."My jaw clenches, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I open my mouth to retort, but before I can say anything, a familiar voice cuts through the tension."Babe?"Damon.My heart skips a beat as I turn to see him striding towards me. His movements are deliberate, but I can sense the
AriaThe lights inside the mansion are blinding after the dimness of the garden. I blink against them, pulse still raging, my breath catching with each step. The argument outside plays on a loop in my head—Damon’s cold accusation, the slap, his warning.I push open the doors to the dining room, and everything screeches back to life. Everyone’s still seated. Joshua walks in a moment after me, all too pleased with himself. He’s still smirking. I can feel Damon’s presence behind me—rigid, burning with restraint.I walk past Joshua without looking at him and take my seat beside Damon. His chair scrapes slightly as he sits last, his expression carved from stone. I don’t acknowledge him.Grace’s voice slices through the room like a knife. “So, Aria, tell us more about your family. You said they’re from Maryland? What kind of business did they run again?”My eyes widen in surprise. “Hardware. My—my father ran a chain of hardware stores.”“Really? What’s the company called? Maybe I’ve heard o
Damon“Is everything alright here?”Mum. Of course.“Yes, Mum. Why wouldn’t it be?”“I just noticed you both weren’t in the sitting room and thought I’d check in,” she says.Just as I’m about to speak, Ava cuts in. “Yeah—I needed an escape from Grace’s endless questions. Is she always like that, or am I just lucky?”“Oh, dear. She’s always been a sour one. You’ve got to be careful around her,” Mum says, slipping into an easy rhythm with Ava as they walk off together.One minute she’s furious and throwing slaps, the next she’s in full character. I really did make the best choice for an actress.“Sweetheart, you’re just going to leave me standing here?” I call out, stopping them.“My love, quit whining. A few more hours and you’ll have my full attention,” Ava says, then ambles back over. With a soft smile, she brushes her lips against mine in a tender kiss, catching me completely off guard. It’s brief. Soft. But it sends a stupid, involuntary jolt through me, like my lips haven’t gotte
Damon“She’s gone.”What??!“What the hell do you mean by that, Leo? What happened? You were supposed to watch her, dammit,” I curse through the phone, barely keeping it together.“She was right here. I briefly stepped away from the door to check with the other assignment you gave me. The other guys were on their brea—”I cut him off before he can finish. “For fuck’s sake, Leo! This is more important than any other task I send your way. You better find her. NOW!”My voice booms through the line. “The freaking instruction was ‘Man her door at all times!’ I say one thing! One! And you all decide to do the opposite!” I end the call before I say something worse.Ava. Ava. Ava.I should’ve known. Should’ve predicted it. She’s always been like this—impulsive, unpredictable. But I didn’t think she’d actually do it. Not this time.Where do I even start? What kind of story can I manufacture to Father? Those vultures at home already think she’s a fake– just a pretty face I pulled in for appeara
AriaHow he manages to get under my skin is something that’ll probably take me a while to understand. He’s lucky I haven’t figured out a way to reach Ava. Contract or no contract, I’d have been long gone.Accusing me of seducing his brother? How low could he possibly go? I feel both satisfaction and regret from the way I acted—slapping him.Nobody should have the power to rile me up. Not like that. Not in public.I’ve always been the one to respond with indifference and calmness, rather than lashing out. But ever since I woke from the coma, I’ve been reactive. I never knew I had it in me—until the ill-fated day I met Grumpy.Time and time again, I surprised even myself.For the first time, Damon was at a loss for words. And why?A kiss.In that moment, as I waltzed over to him with a fake smile plastered across my face, I had no idea what I was doing.But the closer I got, the clearer it became.Shut him up with a kiss. And I did. Just lightly—but I did.I caught the look of surprise
Aria Light penetrates my eyes before I even open them.It's crisp and clinical, and everything smells like antiseptic and plastic. There’s a quiet hum beneath everything—machines, perhaps. The continuous beep of a monitor next to me confirms something I don't want to admit.Hospital. Again.I try to move, but my arms fail me. There's an IV in the back of my hand.I open my eyes.Fluorescent ceiling tiles hang above me. A hanging drape is drawn halfway around the bed, and a hard sheet covers me up to my chest. My body feels as if it has been dropped down a precipice and then regretfully sewn back together.My lips are dry, and my tongue tastes like metal. When I try to speak, all I manage to let out is a cracked, hollow rasp.The memories come in fragments.Running. The park. Barking dogs.Damon—shouting, furious.His tight grip on my arms. Me yelling.Then the ground. A jolt. Everything turning black.The monitor beside me spikes with my heartbeat.The door swings open, and Dr Jenna
DamonLetter?Who the hell still writes a letter?It’s not the kind of thing that shows up in this house. Not with my systems, my protocols. Everything’s monitored, filtered, and controlled. That’s the point. So when the maid shoved the envelope into my hand earlier, it barely registered. Some PR stunt, probably. A thank-you from a client’s assistant. But now, standing in the dim hallway, my eyes catch the opening line, and every muscle in my body locks up.Hey Aria,It’s been a minute.How is he treating you?A low buzz floods my ears.I’m asking because it’s important. To me.I can always come to your rescue. I know you're trapped.The words turn razor-sharp.Now, don’t rack your head with thoughts, my darling.You don’t know who I am. Or do you? But, rest assured, I know you. I see you, and I know your struggles. Be good. I’ll keep in touch. Don’t ask how. I’ll see you before you see me.Till next time—whenever that is.The paper rustles in my hand as I lower it.What the act
AriaThe next few days pass faster than I expect. That might be because of the steady stream of pain meds, or maybe it’s the simple rhythm of hospital life—nurses in and out, vitals checked, food trays delivered like clockwork. Still, nothing distracts me quite like the fact that Damon keeps showing up.Every. Single. Day.He never says he’s coming, but he always does. Always around the same time, too—like he’s scheduled it between corporate meetings and brooding in penthouses. And he's always armed with something—food, water, a sarcastic comment.“You’re looking less like a corpse today,” he says one morning, dropping a bag of takeout onto my tray table.I narrow my eyes. “Charming.”“Not trying to charm you. I'm trying to make sure Mother doesn’t notice you’ve lost an ounce.” He unpacks the container like it were a normal part of his life. Like, feeding me was just one more business obligation. Well, it was.I watch him closely. There’s a twitch in his brow when he thinks I’m not pa
Aria Light penetrates my eyes before I even open them.It's crisp and clinical, and everything smells like antiseptic and plastic. There’s a quiet hum beneath everything—machines, perhaps. The continuous beep of a monitor next to me confirms something I don't want to admit.Hospital. Again.I try to move, but my arms fail me. There's an IV in the back of my hand.I open my eyes.Fluorescent ceiling tiles hang above me. A hanging drape is drawn halfway around the bed, and a hard sheet covers me up to my chest. My body feels as if it has been dropped down a precipice and then regretfully sewn back together.My lips are dry, and my tongue tastes like metal. When I try to speak, all I manage to let out is a cracked, hollow rasp.The memories come in fragments.Running. The park. Barking dogs.Damon—shouting, furious.His tight grip on my arms. Me yelling.Then the ground. A jolt. Everything turning black.The monitor beside me spikes with my heartbeat.The door swings open, and Dr Jenna
AriaHow he manages to get under my skin is something that’ll probably take me a while to understand. He’s lucky I haven’t figured out a way to reach Ava. Contract or no contract, I’d have been long gone.Accusing me of seducing his brother? How low could he possibly go? I feel both satisfaction and regret from the way I acted—slapping him.Nobody should have the power to rile me up. Not like that. Not in public.I’ve always been the one to respond with indifference and calmness, rather than lashing out. But ever since I woke from the coma, I’ve been reactive. I never knew I had it in me—until the ill-fated day I met Grumpy.Time and time again, I surprised even myself.For the first time, Damon was at a loss for words. And why?A kiss.In that moment, as I waltzed over to him with a fake smile plastered across my face, I had no idea what I was doing.But the closer I got, the clearer it became.Shut him up with a kiss. And I did. Just lightly—but I did.I caught the look of surprise
Damon“She’s gone.”What??!“What the hell do you mean by that, Leo? What happened? You were supposed to watch her, dammit,” I curse through the phone, barely keeping it together.“She was right here. I briefly stepped away from the door to check with the other assignment you gave me. The other guys were on their brea—”I cut him off before he can finish. “For fuck’s sake, Leo! This is more important than any other task I send your way. You better find her. NOW!”My voice booms through the line. “The freaking instruction was ‘Man her door at all times!’ I say one thing! One! And you all decide to do the opposite!” I end the call before I say something worse.Ava. Ava. Ava.I should’ve known. Should’ve predicted it. She’s always been like this—impulsive, unpredictable. But I didn’t think she’d actually do it. Not this time.Where do I even start? What kind of story can I manufacture to Father? Those vultures at home already think she’s a fake– just a pretty face I pulled in for appeara
Damon“Is everything alright here?”Mum. Of course.“Yes, Mum. Why wouldn’t it be?”“I just noticed you both weren’t in the sitting room and thought I’d check in,” she says.Just as I’m about to speak, Ava cuts in. “Yeah—I needed an escape from Grace’s endless questions. Is she always like that, or am I just lucky?”“Oh, dear. She’s always been a sour one. You’ve got to be careful around her,” Mum says, slipping into an easy rhythm with Ava as they walk off together.One minute she’s furious and throwing slaps, the next she’s in full character. I really did make the best choice for an actress.“Sweetheart, you’re just going to leave me standing here?” I call out, stopping them.“My love, quit whining. A few more hours and you’ll have my full attention,” Ava says, then ambles back over. With a soft smile, she brushes her lips against mine in a tender kiss, catching me completely off guard. It’s brief. Soft. But it sends a stupid, involuntary jolt through me, like my lips haven’t gotte
AriaThe lights inside the mansion are blinding after the dimness of the garden. I blink against them, pulse still raging, my breath catching with each step. The argument outside plays on a loop in my head—Damon’s cold accusation, the slap, his warning.I push open the doors to the dining room, and everything screeches back to life. Everyone’s still seated. Joshua walks in a moment after me, all too pleased with himself. He’s still smirking. I can feel Damon’s presence behind me—rigid, burning with restraint.I walk past Joshua without looking at him and take my seat beside Damon. His chair scrapes slightly as he sits last, his expression carved from stone. I don’t acknowledge him.Grace’s voice slices through the room like a knife. “So, Aria, tell us more about your family. You said they’re from Maryland? What kind of business did they run again?”My eyes widen in surprise. “Hardware. My—my father ran a chain of hardware stores.”“Really? What’s the company called? Maybe I’ve heard o
Aria"Yes. You."Joshua's smirk irritates me in a way that makes me want to both slap him and look away. Yet, I can’t seem to pull my eyes from his. The heat creeping up my cheeks is undeniable.I shoot him a glare, my disbelief evident. "Excuse me?" I snap. "Are you seriously hitting on me outside the bathroom?"He shrugs, completely unfazed by my reaction. "Relax, Aria. I'm joking. Sort of. You’re beautiful, though. And technically, you’re not married yet."I fold my arms, a wave of disgust washing over me. "You followed me out here just to say that?"He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I’m just saying, if my brother ever messes up—and trust me, he will—you have options. Namely, me."My jaw clenches, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I open my mouth to retort, but before I can say anything, a familiar voice cuts through the tension."Babe?"Damon.My heart skips a beat as I turn to see him striding towards me. His movements are deliberate, but I can sense the
AriaI plaster a wide smile on my face as Damon leads me to sit.“It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so much,” I say, bowing slightly on my seat beside Damon. His mother is sat at the right, while his father is at the head of the table. She must be his favourite wife.There’s an awkward silence as I look around the dining table, scanning their faces to gauge their reactions to my presence. Michael Stone looks at me with an unreadable expression, studying me in an attempt to find something that gives me away. Damon has so much resemblance to his father, especially with his eyes.I smile at him and avert my eyes, shifting it to the person sitting by his left. It’s Damon’s stepmother, Grace Stone. I spent the past week familiarising myself with their names, looks, traits – you name it.She meets my eyes and shoots me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her son, James, is sitted beside her, gaping at me like he just saw a ghost. He averts his eyes from me quickly when I meet his