A few days had passed since the auction.
The drunk investor who had touched Aria's butt woke up in a bed at Mount Sinai Hospital with a wired jaw, a shattered cheekbone, and a sudden, miraculous case of amnesia. When the NYPD detectives came to take his statement, the man stared blankly at the ceiling and explicitly declined to press charges against Damien Sinclair.
The felony assault case evaporated into thin air.
As for the business front, Vale Entertainment was officially under reconstruction. Aria had spent the last seventy-two hours sequestered in the upstairs guest room, conducting back-to-back Skype meetings with Mateo, Vittoria's fiancé. Vittoria herself was absent from the calls.
And Damien?
Damien was strictly following Elias' advice.
He gave Aria her space. But he made certain that she felt him in every corner of the penthouse.
