The mansion had never felt so cold.
Aria followed Damien through the grand entryway, her heels clicking faintly against the marble. He didn't slow, didn't look back. His long strides carried him straight past the living room, past the staircase, into his private study — the one room in the house he guarded like a fortress.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Damien moved to the window, his back rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. Outside, rain lashed against the glass, streaks of water blurring the city lights beyond the estate. The storm mirrored the chaos inside him.
Aria lingered near the door, her throat tight. "Damien—"
"Not now." His voice was sharp, cutting off her attempt before it could begin.
Tears burned her eyes. "Please. Let me explain."
He turned then, and the intensity in his gaze nearly buckled her knees. "Explain?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You went behind my back. Again. You met with Hayes alone, after I explicitly told you to trust me."
Aria flinched at the raw fury in his tone. "I thought—"
"That's the problem, Aria. You thought." Damien raked a hand through his hair, pacing. "You thought you could control him. You thought you could protect me. Do you have any idea how reckless that was?"
Her chin trembled. "I only wanted to protect Noah. And you. I was afraid of what Victor would do if I ignored him."
"You were afraid?" Damien's laugh was harsh, bitter. "You think I wasn't? That I don't know the danger he poses? But fear doesn't excuse betrayal."
The word hit like a physical blow. Aria wrapped her arms around herself. "I didn't betray you."
"Yes, you did." He stopped pacing, pinning her with a look that stripped her bare. "Not by sleeping with him, not by some affair — but by not trusting me enough to stand by my side. That is betrayal."
Her tears spilled. "Damien, please. I've made mistakes, but I'm not your enemy."
His chest rose and fell, his jaw taut with restraint. For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the storm outside.
Finally, he spoke, voice lower, heavier. "I need to know something, Aria. And I need the truth."
Her breath caught. "Anything."
"Do you want to be here?" His question landed like a stone dropped into a still pond, ripples spreading through the air. "Not for Noah. Not because of some contract. For you. Do you want this marriage? Do you want me?"
Aria's lips parted, but no sound emerged. The truth warred inside her. She wanted him — not just as Noah's father, not just as her protector, but as the man whose presence set her heart alight. But she had buried that truth so deep beneath fear and secrets that dragging it out now felt impossible.
Damien read the hesitation in her silence. His eyes hardened. "That's what I thought."
"No!" She surged forward, gripping his arm. "It's not that. I—"
He gently but firmly removed her hand. "I'm drawing a line, Aria. I can't keep living like this — fighting a ghost from your past, while you won't even let me see its face." His voice cracked, just slightly. "I love Noah. I'll always be here for him. But as for us…"
Her blood ran cold. "Damien, don't—"
"As for us," he repeated, eyes closing briefly as if the words physically hurt him, "we can't move forward until you decide. Either you stand with me, fully, no more secrets — or you keep letting the past control you. But if you choose the latter… then you're choosing a life without me."
Aria's world tilted. "You can't mean that."
His gaze locked with hers, unflinching. "I do."
The silence that followed was deafening. Aria's heart pounded in her ears, her throat tight with unshed sobs.
"Damien," she whispered, "please don't give up on me."
He shook his head, the pain in his eyes raw and unguarded. "I'm not giving up. I'm giving you the choice."
Then, without another word, he turned and left the study, the door clicking shut behind him.
Aria crumpled onto the nearest chair, her hands trembling. The storm raged outside, but it was nothing compared to the one inside her chest.
For the next two days, the mansion felt like a warzone in ceasefire.
Damien was polite, distant, never cruel — but never close. At breakfast, he asked after Noah's sleep, his tone gentle with their son but clipped when addressing Aria. At dinner, he listened to Noah chatter about his drawings, smiling faintly, but barely spared Aria a glance.
At night, he didn't come to their room. She heard the faint click of his study door closing, the murmur of late-night calls, the hours ticking by until dawn.
Aria tried to bridge the gap. She brought him coffee once, only to find it untouched on his desk hours later. She knocked on his study door, but he answered with a flat "Busy."
Every rejection chipped away at her hope.
Noah, sensing the tension, grew quieter. He clung to Aria more, his innocent eyes searching her face as if begging her to fix what was broken.
Aria lay awake each night, staring at the ceiling, replaying Damien's ultimatum. No more secrets. Stand with me fully. Or lose me.
She knew what she had to do. But facing the truth meant facing her father. Facing the Lancasters. Facing the very past she had built her entire new life to escape.
Could she do it?
Would Damien even believe her, after all the lies?
On the third morning, the decision was made for her.
She had just seen Noah off with Mrs. Ruiz for his preschool program when a black luxury car pulled up at the gates. The security intercom buzzed, announcing the visitor.
Charles Lancaster.
Aria's stomach dropped.
She almost told security to send him away. Almost fled upstairs to pretend she wasn't home. But then she remembered Damien's words. No more secrets.
Her hands trembled as she gave permission to let him in.
Moments later, her father stood in the foyer, impeccable as ever in a tailored suit. But his face bore the weight of age, guilt etched into the lines around his eyes.
"Aria," he said softly.
She stiffened. "What are you doing here?"
"I came because I heard about Hayes. And the article." His gaze flicked toward the closed study door, where Damien no doubt sat working. "I thought… perhaps it's time you told him everything."
Aria's breath caught. "You don't get to decide that."
"No," Charles agreed quietly. "But I can help. I should have helped years ago."
Before she could respond, the study door opened. Damien emerged, his expression unreadable, his gaze landing first on Aria, then on her father.
"Mr. Lancaster," Damien said coolly. "I wasn't expecting you."
Charles straightened. "Nor you me, I imagine. But if we're to put an end to Hayes's games, the past needs to be brought into the light."
Aria's knees wobbled. Here it was. The moment she had dreaded, yet knew was inevitable.
Damien's eyes found hers. "Is that true?" he asked quietly. "Is this the moment you finally tell me what you've been hiding?"
Her throat closed, but she forced herself to nod. "Yes."
The storm outside seemed to pause, holding its breath.
For the first time in years, Aria prepared to open the wounds she had spent her life burying — praying that in the ashes, something stronger might rise.