The Riverside Café was the kind of place designed to calm the soul.
Nestled along the edge of the river, its patio overlooked the slow current, where willow branches dipped lazily into the water. Normally, Aria might have admired the charm of it: the worn wooden tables, the cheerful yellow umbrellas, the faint scent of fresh pastries drifting on the breeze. But today, everything felt like a stage set for disaster.
She sat at a corner table, hands folded tightly in her lap, her heart thudding with every tick of the clock. She had arrived early, hoping to steady her nerves, but the longer she sat, the more restless she became.
Every sound made her flinch. The clink of cutlery. The creak of a chair. The barista's laughter inside.
But then — footsteps. Slow, deliberate, familiar.
Victor Hayes.
He approached like a man who owned the place. Sharp suit, hair immaculately combed, that same smug expression that made Aria's stomach turn. He slid into the seat opposite her without waiting for an invitation.
"Aria," he drawled, resting his elbows on the table. "You look radiant. I must say, married life has done wonders for you."
She clenched her jaw, ignoring the compliment disguised as mockery. "Let's get this over with. What do you want?"
Victor leaned back, smiling lazily as if they were catching up over tea. "Straight to business, as always. That's one of the things I admire about you."
Her pulse spiked. "This isn't a game, Victor. You've dug up enough to ruin me. To ruin Noah. What's it going to take to make you stop?"
At the mention of her son, Victor's smile sharpened. "Ah yes, little Noah. He's the key, isn't he? The reason you're playing dutiful wife to Mr. Blackwood. The reason you'd do anything to keep your pretty little life intact."
Aria's fingers dug into her palm. "Leave him out of this."
"Relax," Victor said with a mocking chuckle. "I'm not heartless. But I am practical. And practicality says you have two choices: help me, or watch as everything you've built crumbles. Which option do you prefer?"
Her throat tightened. "Help you how?"
Victor steepled his fingers. "Damien controls deals that would take me years to secure. I don't need much. Just a gentle nudge in the right places. Drop my name at the right moment. Convince your husband that I'm worth his time."
Her stomach turned. "He'll never agree. Damien isn't swayed by personal favors."
"Then find another way," Victor replied smoothly. "You're clever. Persuasive. He listens to you more than you realize. And if he doesn't… well." He leaned forward, voice dropping to a hiss. "The world is already whispering about the Lancaster heiress hiding in plain sight. How long before the whispers become shouts?"
Aria's chest constricted. The gossip sites. The photographs. The headlines. It had already started.
"I can make it all go away," Victor said, softening his tone to a mockery of kindness. "Imagine it, Aria. No more scandals. No more shadows. Just peace. All it takes is a little cooperation."
She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Every instinct screamed not to trust him. But the thought of Noah — of Damien — caught in the crossfire made her falter.
"If I agree," she whispered, "you leave us alone. Completely. No more threats. No more blackmail."
Victor's smile widened. "Of course. I'm a man of my word."
A bitter laugh almost escaped her. His word meant nothing. But what choice did she have?
Before she could respond, movement caught her eye. Across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of a building — a tall, familiar figure.
Damien.
Her blood froze.
He stood like a storm contained in human form, dark suit immaculate despite the drizzle, eyes locked on her table. Even from across the street, she felt the weight of his fury, his betrayal, his hurt.
Aria's heart stuttered. He knew.
Victor noticed the shift in her expression and glanced over his shoulder. His smirk deepened when he spotted Damien. "Ah. So the mighty Mr. Blackwood joins us. How charming."
Panic surged in Aria. She rose from her chair. "Damien, wait—"
Too late. Damien was already striding across the street, his presence drawing stares from passersby. He cut through the café entrance like a blade, every line of his body taut with controlled rage.
Victor didn't flinch. He leaned back casually, as if welcoming an old friend. "Blackwood," he greeted with false cheer. "What a pleasant surprise. I was just catching up with your lovely wife."
Damien ignored the outstretched hand, his gaze drilling into Aria. "You came here alone," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "After everything. You chose this."
Tears stung her eyes. "I only wanted to protect you. To protect Noah—"
"By going behind my back?" Damien snapped, the words cutting like glass.
Victor chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Oh, don't be too hard on her, Damien. She was simply being practical. She knows which way the wind blows."
Damien turned his glare on Victor, the temperature in the café plummeting. "You've made a grave mistake."
Victor arched a brow, unruffled. "On the contrary. I think I've played my cards rather well. Your wife sees reason. Perhaps you should take a page from her book."
The tension snapped like a live wire. In one swift movement, Damien grabbed Victor by the collar and slammed him back against the chair. Gasps erupted from the other patrons.
"You so much as breathe near her again," Damien growled, "and I will end you."
Victor's smirk didn't waver. "Careful, Blackwood. The world is watching. Imagine the headlines: billionaire assaults business rival in public."
Damien's grip tightened. "You're not my rival. You're nothing."
"Then why," Victor hissed back, "does your wife come running to me instead of you?"
The words hit Damien harder than a punch. His gaze flicked to Aria, pain flashing beneath the fury. For the first time, he looked less like the invincible Damien Blackwood and more like a man betrayed.
Aria's throat closed. "Damien, please—"
But he released Victor abruptly, as though touching him any longer would poison him. He straightened, jaw clenched, eyes dark with a storm Aria had never seen before.
"This ends now," Damien said coldly. "You've had your fun, Hayes. Pray it was worth it."
Victor adjusted his collar, unfazed. "Oh, it's only just beginning."
Damien's glare lingered on him, but when he turned to Aria, it was colder still. "We're leaving."
Aria's heart shattered at the distance in his tone. She followed him out in silence, Victor's laughter echoing behind them like a death knell.
The car ride home was unbearable. Rain streaked the windows, matching the tears Aria fought to contain. Damien drove with both hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles white, his gaze fixed forward.
Finally, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
His response was ice. "You should be."
She flinched. "I only wanted to stop him before he hurt you. Before he hurt Noah."
"And you thought meeting him alone would accomplish that?" His voice cracked with restrained fury. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? What already has happened by you giving him the satisfaction of thinking you'd bend?"
Her tears spilled over. "I was trying to protect you!"
He slammed the brakes, pulling the car to the side of the road. Rain hammered the roof as he turned to her, eyes blazing.
"I don't need you to protect me," he said, each word searing. "What I need is for you to trust me. To stand by me. Not to sneak off into the lion's den like some sacrificial lamb."
Aria's sob broke free. "I was scared! You were consumed with vengeance—I thought you'd lose yourself. I couldn't just watch it happen."
For a moment, Damien's fury faltered. Pain flickered in his eyes, raw and unguarded. But then his walls slammed back up.
"You've made your choice, Aria," he said quietly, almost brokenly. "Now I'll make mine."
He put the car back in gear, the silence heavier than the storm outside.
And as the city blurred past, Aria realized with a sickening ache: she hadn't just betrayed Damien's trust.
She might have broken something that could never be repaired.