Damon's POV
"You need to make it official, Damon. Before it breaks her completely. She's out there pretending to be strong, but I see it—every time someone whispers, every glance she pretends not to notice. It's killing her slowly."
Godson's voice was sharp, slicing through the tension in my office like a scalpel. He stood near the window, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he watched the city below us.
I sat behind my desk, fingers steepled beneath my chin, trying to process the weight of what he'd just said.
"Aria's not asking for a ring, Godson. She never has," I muttered, though even I could hear the weakness in my voice.
My hands clenched at my sides. "She just wants respect. A place. To not be treated like some dirty secret I'm ashamed of."
