Night had draped the Steel mansion in a soft, silken darkness. The garden glowed under carefully placed lanterns, their warm light flickering across the hedges and flowerbeds. A gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine, mingling with the faint aroma of dinner that still lingered in the house.
Ariana stepped out onto the stone pathway, carrying a small sketchbook. She had been working on new designs, but tonight, the quiet beauty of the garden called her. She paused mid-step, letting the serenity wash over her.
"You're out late," a familiar deep voice said.
She turned. Damian stood at the top of the garden stairs, hands in his pockets, dark eyes soft but intense. Even under the dim light, he looked every bit the formidable man the world feared—but here, he was simply her husband.
"I wanted some air," she replied softly, approaching him.
He inclined his head slightly, a shadow of a smile touching his lips. "I thought we could share the evening together."
Ariana blinked, pleasantly surprised. "Here? Alone?"
"Alone," he confirmed, gesturing toward a small, wrought-iron table with two chairs, already set with a simple tea service and a few small lanterns. "Just us."
She followed him to the table, heart fluttering. Damian pulled out her chair with a careful, protective grace. She sat, captivated by the rare intimacy, the stillness that felt almost magical.
He poured the tea quietly, the soft sound of liquid meeting porcelain echoing in the garden. "You've been painting a lot," he said, eyes scanning her face. "You inspire me."
Ariana's cheeks warmed. "Me? Inspire… you?"
He nodded. "You do. More than you know."
For a few moments, they sat in silence, watching the lanterns sway gently in the breeze, the night sky stretching above them. Damian finally reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, a gentle, unspoken promise.
"I like seeing you like this," he murmured. "Calm. Peaceful. Safe."
Ariana reached out, placing her hand over his. "I feel safe with you," she admitted.
He tightened his grip slightly, voice dropping to a near whisper. "And I'll keep it that way. Always."
For the next hour, they shared quiet conversation, soft laughter, and long pauses filled with nothing but presence. Damian listened when she spoke, genuinely engaged, and Ariana marveled at the man who commanded the world yet knelt in spirit beside her heart.
As the lanterns flickered low, Damian leaned closer, brushing his lips lightly against her temple. "You're my world," he said quietly.
Ariana tilted her head, eyes closing briefly to savor the moment. "And you're mine," she whispered.
The night stretched around them like a cocoon, and for the first time in a long while, both of them allowed themselves to simply be—not CEO, not artist, not the world's fears or expectations—just two souls entwined in love and quiet devotion.