Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows of the Blackwood estate, promising a beautiful morning at odds with the turmoil in Damien's mind. He sipped his coffee and watched Aria across the breakfast table. She stood by the stove, coaxing a golden pancake off the griddle with a spatula. From afar she might have looked serene—her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her movements calm and methodical as she cooked. But Damien saw the slight tremor in her hand when she set the pancake onto the plate. He saw the shadows under her eyes that even a touch of makeup couldn't hide. She hadn't slept well; he could tell, because he hadn't either.
Noah's laughter rang out, bright and oblivious. The little boy sat at the table swinging his feet, an array of crayons scattered before him as he doodled on the back of a paper placemat. "Mommy, look! I drew Mr. Bear at the park," he announced proudly.
Aria turned with a soft smile that warmed her tired eyes. "That's wonderful, sweetheart." She brought the plate of fresh pancakes over and kissed the top of Noah's head. "We'll put your picture on the fridge."
Noah beamed. "Are we still going to the park today? You promised we could feed the ducks," he added, looking between his parents hopefully.
Damien forced a smile, trying to match Aria's gentle tone. "We'll see, champ. Maybe later this afternoon." In truth, his mind was elsewhere—lingering on the previous night, on Aria's haunted expression and the way she'd withdrawn after that mysterious text.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. The fear in her eyes as she clutched her phone was burned into his memory. She had tried to dismiss it, but Damien knew it wasn't "nothing." Frustration gnawed at him. If only she would trust him enough to share her burden... He clenched his coffee mug a tad too tightly and willed himself to stay calm. Pushing her too hard might backfire. He had to be patient, to give her space to open up. Still, he resolved that before this day was done, he'd find out what—or who—was tormenting her.
Aria set a pancake in front of Noah, then offered the plate to Damien with a tentative smile. "Pancake, Damien? They're banana chocolate chip—Noah's favorite. I made plenty."
"Thank you." Damien took the plate, allowing his fingers to brush lightly against hers in the exchange. Aria's breath seemed to catch at the contact, her eyes flickering up to meet his. In that brief moment, Damien offered what he hoped was a reassuring look—an unspoken reminder of his words last night. He cared for her; he was here for her.
A faint blush graced Aria's cheeks. She dipped her head and turned back to fetch the syrup, busying herself with small tasks.
They ate quietly for a few minutes. Noah chattered about wanting to find duck feathers at the park, filling any potential silence. Damien responded when expected, but his focus remained on Aria. She picked at a pancake on her own plate without appetite, her gaze distant. Whatever was coming, she clearly dreaded it.
As if on cue, Damien's phone buzzed on the table with an incoming notification. He glanced down and saw an alert from his head of public relations: Morning Press Briefing – URGENT. His muscles tensed. Usually, he reviewed any news involving their family or his company first thing each day, but he'd been distracted this morning with more personal matters. Now a spike of anxiety cut through him.
Damien tapped the alert and a summary of headlines popped up on the screen. One in particular jumped out, and his blood ran cold:
"Scandal Brewing? Rumors Swirl Around Mrs. Blackwood's Past."
Damien's jaw set hard. He opened the article, skimming quickly. It was a gossip site piece citing anonymous sources from some place called Millstone. The insinuations were infuriatingly vague but damaging nonetheless: talk of Aria not being who she claimed, a suggestion that "Aria Lancaster" wasn't her original name, and hints of a disgraced family and a hushed-up trial.
Each line Damien read made his grip on the phone tighten. These vultures. How dare they dig into Aria's history and toss out insinuations without facts? Across the table, he felt Aria's eyes on him. She'd noticed his change in demeanor—he wasn't hiding it well.
"Damien?" she asked softly. "Is everything alright?"
He looked up to find Noah also peering at him, syrup smeared on the corner of the boy's mouth. Forcing a smile, Damien reached over and gently wiped Noah's face with a napkin. "Everything's fine," he said, keeping his tone light for his son's sake. "Daddy just got a work message."
Noah accepted this easily, turning his attention back to his breakfast. But Aria wasn't so easily convinced. Her green eyes stayed fixed on Damien, worry growing in their depths. She knew him too well.
Damien stood, tucking his phone into his pocket. "Noah, why don't you go wash your hands and pick out which shoes you want to wear if we go to the park later?" he suggested kindly.
Noah, eager, bolted from his chair and scampered out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of crayon drawings in his wake. The moment he was out of earshot, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted.
"Damien," Aria said in a hushed voice, her hands twisting together. "What happened? Was that...about me?"
Damien rounded the table, closing the distance between them. Her anxiety was palpable; it cut through him to see her so scared. Gently, he took her hand in his. She didn't pull away, but he felt a faint tremor go through her fingers.
"There's an article," he admitted, deciding honesty was best. "Some trashy gossip site is running rumors about your past." He searched her face as he continued, "They mentioned Millstone. And a trial."
Aria's face went ashen. She drew a sharp breath and swayed, as if her worst fear had just been spoken aloud. Damien immediately steadied her, his arm coming around her waist. "Easy," he murmured. "Sit down."
He guided her to a chair. Aria sank into it, pressing a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "It's happening," she whispered, voice cracking. "Oh God... it's all coming out."
Damien crouched in front of her, gently pulling her hand from her lips so she would look at him. "Aria, listen to me," he said firmly. "I don't care what that article implies. I know you—the real you. Whatever happened in the past, we will handle it. But I need you to tell me the truth now, alright? No more hiding. What is this about? Who is doing this?"
For a moment, he feared she'd retreat again behind those walls of secrecy. Aria's gaze dropped, and she chewed on her lower lip, clearly terrified. But then she seemed to gather herself. She met his eyes, and there was a flicker of resolve amid the fear.
"You're right," she said unsteadily. "No more hiding."
Aria reached out and grasped Damien's hand tightly in both of hers, as if clinging to a lifeline. He gave her fingers an encouraging squeeze and then rose, taking the chair beside her so they sat at eye level, still holding hands.
She drew in a shaky breath. "I should have told you sooner. I wanted to… so many times. You deserve to know who I…who I really am."
Aria's heart thudded in her ears as she looked into Damien's concerned face. His hands were warm around hers, grounding her, giving her the courage to finally speak the words she'd been running from.
"My name… it wasn't always Aria Lancaster," she began quietly. Shame and relief warred within her at that simple admission. "Lancaster is my mother's maiden name. I started using it years ago, after I cut ties with my father." She saw recognition flare in Damien's eyes, but he stayed silent, letting her continue.
"My father is Charles Donahue," Aria said, the name tasting bitter on her tongue. "He was—he is—a businessman. Several years ago, he was at the center of a very public scandal in Millstone, the town where I grew up. He was accused of financial fraud, swindling investors… people lost their life savings." Her voice faltered. Memories of that time flooded back: reporters camped outside their gates, former friends whispering behind her back, the humiliation and anger and heartbreak. "There was a trial. My father was found guilty on multiple counts. Our family name was ruined. I was still in college at the time, and overnight I became 'the disgraced Donahue daughter' in all the papers."
A tear slipped down Aria's cheek. Damien reached up and gently wiped it away, his thumb lingering in a silent gesture of comfort. She gripped his hand a little tighter and forced herself to go on. "I couldn't bear it. The things people said, the way they looked at me—as if I had been part of his schemes, as if I were complicit. I wasn't," she added quickly, a flash of anguish in her voice. "I had nothing to do with any of it, but in their eyes I was guilty by association. My father… he never truly apologized to me or anyone. He just expected me to stand by him, even after everything fell apart."
Damien's jaw clenched, but his touch remained gentle. "So you left," he murmured, recalling the letter from her father and what he knew of her past from the hints before. "You disappeared and started over as Aria Lancaster."
Aria nodded. "I left that life behind. I took my mother's name because it had no ties to him or the scandal. I moved here to the city and tried to rebuild myself from scratch. I thought if I stayed anonymous, if I worked hard and kept my head down, I could be free of it."
A shaky breath escaped her. Now came the hardest part. "For a while, it worked. Nobody recognized me here. But then… then I ran into someone from my past." Her hands were growing cold despite Damien's hold. She swallowed. "Victor Hayes."
At that name, Damien stiffened. She saw a spark of anger in his grey eyes—he clearly remembered the man he'd found her with at the cafe weeks ago. "The man at the café," he said, jaw tightening.
Aria nodded miserably. "He recognized me. Our fathers were associates once. When everything fell apart, his family cut ties with mine. I hadn't seen him in years—until he cornered me by chance. He recognized me and discovered I'm… married to you now."
Damien's eyes darkened. "And he decided to make trouble."
Tears of frustration pricked Aria's eyes. "He demanded I help him. He wanted me to use my connection to you to give him business opportunities. Essentially blackmailing me—if I refused, he threatened to leak my true identity and every ugly detail of my past to the media." Her voice quavered. "I was terrified, Damien. I didn't want to drag you or Noah into that mess. So I thought I could handle it alone. I met with him, tried to stall, but—"
She broke off, another tear slipping free. "It seems I failed. He must have tipped off those reporters. He's the only one who would have. Last night, when I got that text…" She shuddered at the memory. "It was Victor. He said time was up and he'd expose everything by today. I-I was trying to figure out how to stop him, but I… I didn't know how."
The dam within her burst. All the fear, guilt, and stress Aria had bottled up poured out in a flood of words. "I'm so sorry," she choked. "I should have told you. I was just so afraid—afraid of losing what little trust we'd built, afraid you'd see me differently, or that you'd get hurt trying to protect me. This is all my fault. If I hadn't come into your life with all this baggage—"
"Aria, stop," Damien said, his voice firm. He cupped her face between his palms, gently lifting it until she met his gaze. To her surprise, there was no anger there. Only compassion and a fierce, protective light. "This is not your fault. You didn't choose your father's actions, and you certainly didn't ask for some leech like Victor to target you."
"But I lied to you—" she whispered, eyes searching his.
"You were scared," he replied, brushing his thumbs soothingly along her cheekbones. "I understand why you felt you had to hide it. Do I wish you'd trusted me sooner? Yes. But I'm not angry with you, Aria. I'm angry with them—those gossips, and Victor, and anyone who's ever hurt you."
Aria let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The relief was overwhelming; it made her lightheaded. "You… you're not disappointed in me? Or ashamed?"
"Never," Damien said instantly. His eyes softened as he continued to hold her face. "Nothing in your past changes who you are right now: the woman who has fought tooth and nail for her child, who has brought light into my home... into my life. If anything, knowing what you went through only makes me admire you more."
A small, broken sound escaped her—half sob, half laugh of disbelief. Aria closed her eyes, leaning into Damien's touch as more tears spilled, this time from relief. He pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly, wrapping her arms around his solid frame. Against his chest, she finally felt safe.
For a long moment, they simply held each other. Aria listened to the steady strong beat of Damien's heart beneath his dress shirt. He stroked her back soothingly. "We'll get through this," he murmured into her hair, the same words he'd told her once before. "Together. I promise you."
Together. Aria tightened her hold on him. "Okay," she whispered. "Together."
Damien exhaled, as if releasing his own pent-up worry now that she had opened up to him. He gently eased back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "First things first. Victor Hayes." The way he said the name was almost a growl. "I'll make sure he never lays a finger on you—or meddles in our lives—ever again. I'll involve the authorities if I have to. Blackmail and extortion are crimes."
The vehemence in his voice sent a shiver through Aria, but not out of fear. It stirred a sense of security deep inside her. She knew Damien had the power and resources to back up those words. "He'll be expecting me to cave to his demands," she said quietly. "Maybe… maybe I could meet him and try to talk him down, or get proof of what he's doing—"
"No." Damien's reply was immediate and unwavering. "I don't want you anywhere near that snake. Let me and my team handle him."
Aria opened her mouth to protest but the look in Damien's eyes stopped her. It was non-negotiable. And truthfully, a large part of her was grateful to hand over that battle to someone stronger. She nodded. "Alright."
He gentled his tone, rubbing soothing circles on her upper arms. "My security chief can gather evidence of his threats. We might even set a trap for him. But for now, let's focus on managing the fallout from this article."
Aria wiped the last of her tears away, trying to steady herself. "The article… it's out there now. Everyone will know soon, won't they?" A fresh wave of anxiety threatened to surface at that thought, but Damien's presence kept her calm.
"We can control the narrative," Damien said with determination. "My PR team has dealt with worse. We'll release a statement, if necessary, to address the rumors head-on. Preferably something to defuse the scandal before it grows."
Aria nodded, though her stomach knotted at the idea of her life being summed up in a public statement. "What… what will you say?"
"The truth, framed on our terms," Damien replied. "That you distanced yourself from your father years ago and have no involvement in his wrongdoing. That it's an old story being dredged up by someone with malicious intent. People will move on once they realize it's stale gossip."
She bit her lip. Would they? Or would this haunt her anew? She pushed the pessimism aside and mustered a small smile for Damien. "You make it sound so easy."
He touched her chin affectionately. "It won't be completely easy. But you have me in your corner now." He stood up then, and Aria did too, keeping hold of his hand as if to anchor herself.
As if on cue, Damien's phone buzzed again in his pocket. He glanced at it and frowned. "It's my office. Give me one moment."
Aria watched as he stepped aside and answered. His voice took on a crisp, businesslike tone. "Blackwood speaking… Yes, I saw it… Understood. Schedule a meeting with the PR and legal teams in an hour. And get our investigators on tracking down the source of that leak." A pause. "Mhm. Also, reach out to Mr. Covington at the Times—I want to see if he's heard any chatter, maybe have him run a more favorable piece to counteract. Right… Thank you."
He hung up and returned to Aria. "Damage control in motion," he said with a faint grin, trying to reassure her. "We'll beat them at their own game."
Before Aria could respond, another call rang through—this time the name on the screen made his eyes narrow. "Excuse me, it's an important investor," he said, tension creeping back into his expression as he accepted the call.
Aria stood by anxiously, her nails pressing crescents into her palms as she watched Damien's demeanor shift. "Yes, good morning, sir," he greeted, striding a few paces away though she could still overhear snippets. "I understand your concern…No, I assure you, Lancaster—my wife—is not implicated in any wrongdoing…Absolutely not… The reports are exaggerated gossip." His jaw tightened. "Our partnership is solid, Mr. Astor. This doesn't change the fundamentals of our project."
Aria's heart sank. It was worse than she imagined—investors were calling, worried about the scandal tarnishing Damien's business. Because of me. She felt ill.
"No, there will be no delay on the launch," Damien continued, his tone frosty but controlled. "Tonight's event? Of course, we'll be there… Yes, Aria will attend with me." A beat of silence, then more coldly: "I appreciate your advice, but my wife's presence is not up for debate. I'll see you this evening."
He ended the call, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Aria moved toward him. "Damien? Was that about the gala tonight?"
He nodded, slipping his phone away. "Lawrence Astor—one of our primary investors—he's hosting a charity gala this evening. He wanted to make sure we'd still attend despite…everything." Damien's eyes met hers, steely resolve in them. "I think we must. It will show confidence and unity. If we hide away, it only lends credence to their gossip."
Aria swallowed hard. The thought of stepping into a ballroom full of elite guests who likely had read those rumors made her stomach clench. But Damien was right. She didn't want to hide anymore. And he would be with her.
"I'll go," she said, voice quiet but firm. "I'll stand by you, Damien."
A smile touched his lips—a genuine, appreciative smile that sent warmth blooming in her chest. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "Thank you. We'll get through tonight together. And I'll be right beside you the whole time."
Aria managed a small smile back, butterflies fluttering in her belly at his gentle gallantry. "Together," she repeated, as if reminding herself.
From the hallway came the sound of Noah's footsteps and the thump of Mr. Bear being dragged along. In a split second, Damien and Aria wordlessly shifted back into protective parent mode. By silent agreement, the heaviness of the conversation lifted as they prepared to reassure their son that everything was okay.
Noah burst back into the kitchen, holding up two mismatched sneakers with a grin. "I couldn't pick, so I brought both!"
Aria laughed softly, kneeling to gather her little boy in a hug. "Those are perfect, love."
Damien crouched beside them, ruffling Noah's hair. "Buddy, Mommy and Daddy have to take care of some boring grown-up things today," he said gently. "But I promise, as soon as we can, we'll all go to the park, alright?"
"Okay, Daddy," Noah chirped, easily appeased as he hugged both his parents around their necks.
Aria closed her eyes, breathing in the innocent scent of her child and the steady, comforting presence of the man beside her. In that embrace, she found strength. Whatever challenges awaited them at the gala tonight—whispers, stares, perhaps far worse—they would face it as a family.
As she held Noah tight and met Damien's supportive gaze over their son's shoulder, Aria silently steeled herself. This day would not be easy, but she was no longer alone. And as long as Damien was by her side, she dared to hope that love and truth would triumph over gossip and fear.