Ariana stood frozen in the center of the room long after Damian disappeared down the hallway with the guard.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Something had changed.
She felt it.
The house felt heavier, colder—
as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
She paced.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Finally, she couldn't wait.
She stepped toward the door—
The moment her hand touched the handle, the door opened from the other side.
Damian stood there.
His expression was carved out of stone.
Not angry.
Not panicked.
Something worse.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
Ariana whispered,
"Damian… what happened?"
He didn't speak right away.
He walked inside and closed the door behind them.
"Ariana," he said softly,
"you need to sit down."
Her stomach twisted.
She obeyed, lowering herself onto the edge of the bed.
Damian remained standing for a moment—
as if deciding how much truth she could handle.
Finally, he sat beside her.
Not touching.
But close enough that the air between them felt warm.
"Ariana," he began quietly,
"my men found something on the west side of the estate."
Ariana's breath trembled.
"What did they find?"
Damian looked at her.
Straight.
Direct.
Unwavering.
"Your scarf."
Ariana's blood went cold.
"My—my scarf?" she whispered.
"How? I didn't go outside."
"I know," Damian said.
"You didn't drop it."
Her pulse raced painfully.
"You're saying someone took it?" she breathed.
"Yes."
Ariana lifted a shaking hand to cover her mouth.
Someone had been close enough…
to take something from inside the mansion grounds.
Something of hers.
"But… why would someone take my scarf?" she whispered.
Damian exhaled slowly—
as if he hated the answer.
"Because, Ariana… they wanted you to know they were here."
Ariana's hands began to shake.
"No… no, no… why are they doing this?"
Damian shifted closer—finally placing a steady hand over hers.
"Ariana, listen to me. No one is going to touch you. Not while I'm breathing."
She nodded weakly, tears burning her eyes.
"Damian… you're scaring me."
His hand tightened around hers—
gentle, anchoring.
"There's more," he said quietly.
Ariana froze.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Tell me."
Damian looked her in the eyes with unflinching honesty.
"There was a note attached to the scarf."
Ariana's voice shook.
"What… what did it say?"
Damian held her gaze.
"It said…"
He swallowed once, visibly.
"She doesn't deserve his protection."
Ariana's heart stopped.
Damian continued, voice low and dangerous:
"And at the bottom… it was signed."
Ariana felt her throat tighten.
"S-Signed… by who?"
Damian's jaw flexed.
His eyes darkened.
His hand tightened on hers.
"Ariana," he said softly,
"the person behind this is no longer a rumor."
Her breath hitched.
"Damian… who?"
He exhaled—
And finally spoke the name he'd been avoiding.
"Lena."
Ariana's blood turned to ice.
Her lungs tightened.
Her mind raced.
Damian squeezed her hand.
"She crossed a line," he murmured.
"And I will not allow her to cross another."
Ariana shook her head lightly, overwhelmed.
"Damian… but why me? Why does she hate me so much?"
Damian leaned closer, his voice deep and steady.
"Because she can't control me."
A pause.
"And she thinks she can control you."
Ariana swallowed hard.
Damian cupped the side of her face gently, brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"You have something she wants," he whispered.
Ariana looked up.
"What?"
Damian's expression softened painfully.
"Me."
Ariana's breath caught in her throat.
He didn't look away.
"This isn't about the contract," he said quietly.
"It isn't about status. It isn't even about jealousy."
Ariana whispered,
"Then what is it about?"
Damian lowered his forehead to hers—
gentle, intimate, protective.
"She knows I'm falling for you."
Ariana's heart stopped.
Her breath froze.
Her entire body went still.
Damian closed his eyes, his voice quiet but certain.
"And she hates you for it."
Ariana trembled.
Not because she was afraid—
But because her heart, her very soul, understood what he had just admitted.
Damian Steele—
the man who trusted no one,
the man feared by the world,
the man kept behind a mask for years—
was falling for her.
A gentle sob escaped her lips.
"Damian," she whispered.
He pulled her into his arms instantly—
not hesitating, not holding back.
He held her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
"I'm here," he murmured into her hair.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Ariana clutched onto him, trembling.
And Damian whispered a truth she would never forget:
"No matter what she does…
no matter who helps her…
I will protect you before I protect myself."
Ariana broke into quiet tears.
And for the first time—
Damian held her fully against his chest.
No distance.
No restraint.
No walls.
Just them.
Together.
Against everything coming next.