Aria woke the next morning with a lightness in her chest that she hadn't felt in ages. For a blissful moment, safe in the sheets still carrying Damien's scent, everything seemed alright. The secrets were out, Damien was still by her side, and together they would face whatever came next.
Reality intruded almost immediately. As Aria descended the stairs toward the kitchen, she saw a grim-faced Damien standing by the counter, phone pressed to his ear and the television on low. He spotted her and quickly ended his call. "Good morning," he said gently, though worry clouded his eyes.
"Morning," Aria replied uncertainly.
Damien muted the TV, but not before Aria caught a glimpse of a headline on the news ticker: Heiress in Hiding — Blackwood CEO's Wife Revealed as Lancaster Heiress. Her heart lurched. On the screen, a photo of her from a past event was plastered beneath the headline.
"Oh no," she breathed, pressing a hand to her mouth.
It was all there in bold letters: Aria Blackwood (née Lancaster) revealed as estranged heiress; sources allege secret child born before marriage...
"I just found out minutes ago," Damien said, watching her reaction carefully. "It broke overnight and now it's everywhere."
Aria's blood ran cold. The room tilted. "Everyone knows," she whispered, moving closer to the screen as if to make it disappear. "They know about me... about Noah..."
Her vision blurred and she swayed. Instantly, Damien was at her side, steadying her with an arm around her shoulders. "Listen to me," he said, voice calm but firm. "We knew this was possible. We will handle it."
Aria leaned into him, struggling to breathe. "The paparazzi... are they...?"
Almost in answer, a camera flash flared beyond the kitchen window. Aria flinched. Through the curtains she could make out a cluster of people with cameras at the front gates.
"They started gathering at dawn," Damien confirmed grimly. "Security isn't letting anyone through."
Aria sank into a chair, knees too weak to hold her. This was her nightmare come true—exposed to the world, hounded by cameras, her private life laid bare. "They'll never leave us alone," she whispered shakily.
Damien knelt in front of her and took her hands. "Let them talk," he said softly. "The people who matter know the truth."
Aria searched his face, finding only unwavering resolve. She tried to mirror it, but a new fear twisted inside her. "My father," she croaked. "He'll see this..."
She didn't know which frightened her more: that Gerald Lancaster would be furious at the public embarrassment, or that he might try to drag her back under his control to manage the damage.
As if on cue, the shrill ring of the landline phone cut through the air. Damien's eyes narrowed; almost no one used that number except family.
Aria's stomach flipped. She crossed to the phone on unsteady legs and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"
For a beat, only silence. Then a familiar male voice came through, cold and seething. "Aria."
She nearly dropped the phone. "...Father?"
Damien was at her side in an instant, a supportive hand at the small of her back. Aria gripped the receiver until her knuckles turned white. "Father," she repeated weakly.
Gerald Lancaster's voice crackled with restrained wrath. "How dare you," he hissed. "Years of silence, and now you disgrace our family on national television? Have you utterly lost your mind?"
Aria closed her eyes. "I never wanted this to happen," she managed, voice trembling. "It wasn't intentional—"
"Spare me," he cut her off. "You will meet me today. This must be contained."
Her blood ran cold. "Father, please—"
"I'm flying up this morning," he bit out. "I'll be at your home by this afternoon. We will discuss how you'll make amends for this humiliation." With that, he hung up.
Slowly, Aria lowered the receiver. She was shaking. "He's coming here," she whispered.
Damien's hand pressed reassuringly against her back. "I gathered as much," he said grimly. "You don't have to face him alone, Aria."
She turned to Damien, eyes wide with dread. Memories of her father's icy disappointment and cutting words swirled in her mind. "He... he's furious," she said in a small voice. "He wants to 'contain' the situation."
Anger flashed in Damien's eyes. "You are not a problem to be managed. And I won't let him bully you."
Aria let out a shaky breath, fear and relief mingling inside her. She felt like a child again about to be dragged into the principal's office—except this time, she wasn't alone. Damien was right beside her, and he wasn't going anywhere.
He drew her into a sideways embrace. "We'll get through today, just like we got through last night," he murmured into her hair. "I promise."
Aria nodded against his chest, clutching his shirt. Outside, she could hear the clamor of reporters at the gate, shouting her name and a flurry of questions. The world was closing in, but inside these walls she had Damien's arms around her, keeping her safe.
By early afternoon, a dark sedan pulled through the gates of the estate. Aria's heart pounded. "He's here," she whispered.
Damien squeezed her hand. "I'm right here with you."
The front door opened and the butler admitted their guest. Gerald Lancaster strode inside, formidable in his tailored suit and overcoat. His pale blue eyes—so like Aria's—swept the foyer with open judgment before landing on his daughter.
For a heavy moment, no one spoke. Aria's pulse thundered. Damien subtly stepped closer, shoulder almost in front of hers, as if shielding her.
"So," Gerald said at last, voice razor-sharp. "The prodigal daughter." His gaze flicked to Damien, standing protectively at Aria's side. Gerald's lip curled in disdain. "And the husband—caught up in this spectacle, I see."
"That's enough," Damien said icily.
Gerald's eyes narrowed. "We'll speak privately, without an audience."
Aria bristled and lifted her chin, drawing strength from Damien's steady grip on her hand. "Anything you need to say, you can say in front of my husband."
Gerald's jaw tightened. "Very well." He stepped further into the foyer and shrugged off his coat, thrusting it at the butler without looking. "Your little rebellion has made quite the mess. Do you have any idea the damage control I've been doing all morning?"
Aria flushed with a mix of anger and guilt. Before she could respond, Damien spoke up, tone calm but cold. "Mr. Lancaster, let's be clear. Aria owes you nothing. Not an apology, not an explanation. If you're here to check on her well-being, you're welcome. If you're here to scold and threaten her, I'll show you the door."
Gerald's face reddened, a vein pulsing at his temple. "You have some nerve speaking to me—"
"Nerve is exactly what's needed," Damien interrupted sharply. "Your concern should be for your daughter and grandson, not your reputation. Aria went through hell to protect her child. You'd know that if you hadn't abandoned her when she needed you most."
Gerald actually stepped back, caught off guard by the onslaught. Aria's heart thundered. She had never seen anyone stand up to her father like that.
A strained silence fell. Gerald's gaze flickered over Aria's face, perhaps truly seeing her for the first time in years. When he spoke again, his tone was notably less harsh. "This situation affects more than just you, Aria," he said stiffly. "But what's done is done, I suppose."
Despite everything, he was still her father, and for a fleeting second Aria saw something almost like concern in his eyes. "I understand," she said quietly.
Gerald cleared his throat. "We'll speak more soon." He retrieved his coat from the butler, then gave Aria a long, unreadable look. "Take care of yourself," he muttered gruffly. And with that, he strode out the door the same way he'd arrived.
As soon as the door shut, Aria felt her strength drain. She sagged back against Damien, who wrapped an arm around her waist.
"You alright?" he murmured.
Emotion swirled through her—relief, sadness, anger, hope. "I think so," she said softly. "I honestly expected worse."
"He's a hard man to like," Damien said dryly.
Aria gave a weak, watery laugh. "That's putting it mildly."
Damien tipped her chin up, his eyes full of pride. "But you—you were incredible. I'm so proud of you."
Her eyes brimmed at the tender praise. The day that began in despair was ending in something like victory. The secret was out, and the world hadn't ended. Her father had come, but she hadn't cowered. And through it all, Damien had been a wall at her back, unyielding and strong.
Impulsively, Aria rose on her toes and kissed him—a soft, grateful kiss. Damien inhaled in surprise, then his arms encircled her, drawing her close as he returned the kiss with aching tenderness. For a few precious seconds, the chaos beyond their gates faded away. It was just them, and the steady strength of their bond.
When they finally pulled apart, Damien rested his forehead against hers and whispered, "Bound together, then."
Aria managed a teary smile and nodded. "Bound together," she echoed, "for as long as it takes."
No matter what awaited them next—scheming ex-fiancés, media frenzies, or ghosts of the past—Aria knew one thing for certain. She wouldn't face it alone. Damien was hers and she was his, and that made all the difference.