CHAPTER TWENTY: WHEN TRUTH COLLIDES
The night settled over the city with the weight of unanswered questions.
Aria stood at the kitchen counter, staring at the untouched cup of tea in her hands. The steam had faded long ago, but she hadn't moved. She couldn't. Her mind replayed every moment from the last twenty-four hours—the surprise visit, Damien's determination, Eli's innocent joy, and the threat she never expected to return.
Lana.
Even thinking her name made Aria feel sick.
The woman had shown up earlier that day—polished, confident, dripping with entitlement—and made it clear she had no plans to disappear quietly.
Damien is mine. You had your moment. Don't confuse biology with ownership.
Aria closed her eyes, feeling the sting of humiliation and anger all over again.
The kitchen door opened softly behind her.
Damien entered.
He didn't speak immediately. He simply looked at her—really looked—then approached with slow, cautious steps.
"You didn't answer your phone," he said quietly.
"I needed space," she replied without turning.
He exhaled.
"I figured. But I still needed to check on you."
Aria finally turned around.
Damien looked exhausted—tie loose, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up. His hair was disheveled, like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times.
And the worry in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Aria," he said softly, "Lana came to my office today."
Her stomach twisted.
"Of course she did."
"And she told me she spoke to you."
Aria looked away. "She made herself very clear."
Damien's jaw flexed. "She had no right."
"She thinks she does," Aria whispered.
"She thinks she's still part of your life."
"She's not," he said immediately.
"But she thinks she is."
Damien cursed under his breath and raked a hand through his hair. He took a step closer. Aria stiffened, but didn't move away.
"She's wrong," he said, voice firm.
"Aria, whatever Lana is trying to do—manipulate, intimidate, threaten—it doesn't matter. She and I ended long before you and I ever began."
Aria hesitated.
"Then why is she so confident?"
Damien's gaze darkened—anger, frustration, and something else beneath it.
"Because Lana hates losing," he said quietly.
"And she thinks she owns everything she touches."
Aria swallowed. "Including you?"
"No," Damien said.
"Especially not me."
Silence stretched between them—heavy, charged.
Damien stepped even closer, slow and deliberate.
"Aria… I need you to hear me."
She forced her eyes to meet his.
"There is nothing—nothing—between Lana and me. Not now. Not ever again. She doesn't get a vote in my life. You do. Eli does. But she doesn't."
Her breath trembled, but she didn't look away.
Damien continued, voice gentler now.
"And I know she scared you. I know she upset you. But she has no power here. Not over my decisions. Not over what I want."
Aria's voice cracked.
"And what do you want, Damien?"
He didn't hesitate.
"You," he said softly.
"And our son."
"A future with both of you."
Her heart jolted.
She gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself.
Damien took another step—now close enough that she could feel the heat of him, smell his clean cologne, sense every bit of tension radiating from him.
"Aria," he murmured, "I'm not going to let anyone—especially Lana—destroy what we're building."
She blinked hard.
"What are we building?"
"Something real," he whispered.
"Something fragile but worth every inch of effort. I don't know where this ends. But I want to find out—with you."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"Damien… I'm scared."
"I know," he said gently.
"And I'll stay until you're not."
He reached for her hand.
She didn't pull away this time.
His fingers closed around hers—warm, steady, grounding.
"I'm here," he whispered.
"And I'm not going anywhere."
For the first time in years, Aria felt the ground beneath her feet shift—not with fear, but with the unsettling possibility of hope.
Damien's thumb brushed her knuckles, slow and deliberate.
Then—
A loud knock shattered the moment.
Three sharp bangs.
Damien stiffened immediately.
Aria's heartbeat spiked.
He moved in front of her instinctively, protective, tense.
The knock came again.
Louder.
"Damien Black," a man's voice called from the other side of the door.
"We need to talk."
Damien's expression changed—tension hardening into something cold.
Aria whispered, "Who is that?"
Damien slowly exhaled.
"Trouble."