Aria pov
"Damien." I stood up so fast my chair scraped against the floor. "What are you doing here?"
My heart hammered in my chest. The candlelight that had seemed romantic moments ago now felt harsh and exposing. I could feel the eyes of other diners turning toward us, drawn by the tension crackling in the air.
"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his gaze flicking to Lucas with undisguised hostility. "You cancelled our meeting because 'something came up.' Didn't realize that something was a romantic dinner with Hayes."
The bitterness in his voice cut through me. I'd never heard Damien sound like this before—raw, unguarded, almost desperate. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself.
"Not that it's any of your business," Lucas said, standing as well and moving to stand beside me, "but Aria can have dinner with whoever she wants. You don't own her."
