The engine hummed lowly as Major leaned back against the leather seat, his fingers absently scrolling through his phone screen. His jaw was tight, his tie loosened, and there was a flicker of tension in his gaze as he reread the headlines again.
"Mystery Model Spotted Leaving Hotel With Billionaire Major Knight—Trouble In Paradise For Fashion Week?"
Who was this person and why wouldn't they fucking back down?
This was not good—for his public image as a billionaire actor; stocks and shares in his company; his influence was also greatly at stake; plus, his underground dealers would think that he was a fucking joke.
And Italy was always invested in his business. Else, tell him why it was creating such a wild online buzz with a thousand threads of a thousand opinions.
He swiped his palms over his face, exhausted. Very soon, the board of directors would call him to tell him of a steep decline in stock markets. It was why he tried all he could to keep his personal life off the media.
He scoffed and tossed the phone into the passenger seat, running a hand through his hair. Damn the paparazzi. And damn the timing. Aria didn't even deserve that kind of publicity. Not when she was finally starting to claim her own spotlight without being under his. In her own case, it might even make her more popular, increase traction on her page. Oh well.
Headlights cut across the sidewalk.
Then he saw her.
Aria.
She exited the restaurant, her coat draped over one arm, her head tilted slightly as she said goodbye to whoever it was seated in the restaurant. He strained his eyes to trace the shape of the person. Was it male or female? He couldn't tell.
She looked gorgeous—unbothered on the outside, like she hadn't seen the pictures at all or the wave of rumours that grew unchecked early this morning. But Major knew better. He could always tell by the way she walked when something had shifted.
And she wasn't happy to see him. If she was, she'd smile—a huge one that could rival the sun.
But when she spotted his car, she hesitated.
Her pace slowed, her posture lifted slightly, her chin rising like a queen approaching enemy territory. She opened the door and slipped in without a word.
There was silence as he watched her, wondering what to do. She was always very excited to see him. Throwing jokes around. Keeping light chatter. But this silence…
Major exhaled. "You look... really good tonight."
"Thanks," she replied, fastening her seatbelt. Her tone was cool and distant, like she didn't want to be here. No kiss, no smile. Not even a glance.
He revved the engine and pulled away from the curb, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
"Saw the articles?" he asked.
"Everyone did," she replied. "I'm so glad that most of the models couldn't be bothered. It was a brand collab shoot, so nobody really cared for my petty problems. I honestly thought they'd show up with cameras and plenty of questions. But nah. It did give Muriel something to yap about."
He flitted his gaze from the road to her. "Who's Muriel?"
"The lead model. Ex's girlfriend… Suddenly wants to be a thorn in my flesh."
He glanced sideways. "I had it put down, yunno. But some people don't want to let it die, and they've spun off a new tale. I just didn't know it would blow up like this."
She laughed. But it was dry and empty. "You never do, Major. Things just happen around you, and people like me get burned. You're the billionaire celebrity."
He winced. "You know a little scandal could greatly affect my career."
"Oh, really?" She turned her head finally, eyes unreadable. "But your money is a shield. You have enough to not care and to build yourself from the ground up if you crash to the nadir."
He didn't reply. His face was expressionless. The only evidence of his anger was his tightened knuckles on the steering wheel and the little lines that bulged out from the side of his head.
Silence fell.
"Where are you taking me to?" she finally broke the silence.
"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked quietly.
She turned to the window. "Yes. It's been an exhausting day. And I'd want to be alone so I can hear myself think."
The drive was quiet. Venice blurred past, a dreamscape of lights and reflections on canal water. Major occasionally glanced at her, trying to read her body language, but Aria gave nothing away. Her legs were crossed. One hand rested on her thigh. Her gaze never met his again.
He pulled up to her private manor at Jaden Estates. She just unlocked the seatbelt and swiped up her bag, not saying goodbye or thank you for the ride. Nothing. Like a closed vault.
She clicked open the car door, and as she wanted to step out, Major gently pulled her in and slammed the door closed. "Talk to me, Mia Mela. Why the silent treatment? What did I do wrong? How can I make it right? How can I make it up to you?"
She looked up at him, shocked.
This was the Major Knight. The one who stepped on kings and queens to get to the fucking top. Who ruled Italy's business scene with an iron fist. And here he was, acting… weak?
For a moment, the anger drained out of her face, but then her mood changed again. "Let me go, Major!"
His voice was firm, cold. "You can just tell me what I did. Or we will both stubbornly sit here until one of us caves in, and that person will not be me."
"Don't you have somewhere to be, businesses to run, a schedule?" she snapped, annoyed.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his gorgeous lips, and he tucked a stubborn stray hair behind her ears. "For you, Mia Mela, I'm ready to throw it all in the dust."
"You're married, Major." She finally dropped the bombshell. "What are you doing with me?"
He looked at her with a stern expression. "Is that it? The reason for your silent treatment?"
"Is it not enough?" she whipped back, furious. "I hate to say it loud, but I love you. You made me fall for you, wait for you, you mess with my head, my fucking thoughts." She sniggered at herself. "I honestly thought we had something. Hoped."
Tears clouded her eyes. "And you never told me. I was too obsessed with you to see the signs. I found out in the worst way possible. Never have I ever felt so used."
To her surprise, he didn't reply back or react the way she expected him to. He just leaned back into the car, eyes closed like the weight of the world crashed on his shoulders.
He was immobile for some time and even she became genuinely scared. "Major…?"
"What if I told you that I don't love her, not even close to what I feel for you?"
"Then why are you with her?"
His voice was deadly calm. "It's complicated."
Aria tittered to herself. "She has mafia connections, probably a union to expand your business. I can't even compete."
He glanced sideways. "You know billionaires are allowed to have mistresses, right?"
She looked at him in shock. What an insult. "Yeah right." She scoffed, springing out from his car and slamming the door.
Major slammed the door close too, hot on her heels. "Aria, wait up."
He caught up to her just when she was about to enter in. The keycard beeped. The door clicked open with its usual mechanical sigh.
And then, silence. Their mouths fell as they viewed the scene that lay out before them.
Aria's bag crashed from her hand.
Everywhere was thrashed.
The chandelier was shattered. Glass glittered across the marble. The black velvet drapes were slashed, hanging in jagged strips. An expensive Italian oak chair was cracked in half, the legs beaten in pieces.
"What the fuck?" she swore under her breath, wanting to move towards the chair. But Major held her back. "How do you know the people who did this have left?"
Her eyes shone. "How could they even have entered? There is no sign of forced entry."
He gently pushed her behind his back, then uncocked a gun that was stashed in his left sleeve. Aria gasped. So he always carried a gun with him.
They treaded carefully into the apartment.
Her sleek glass bar she'd stocked for herself was smashed. Liquor bled into the cream carpet.
Paintings were tilted. A couch overturned. Shards of a destroyed watch—her grandfather's Patek—scattered on the floor like bones.
"I do not understand," she whispered, trembling. "What's their motive? What have I done? Who did I offend?"
"This isn't random. This is a message," he said quietly. "Wait here. I'll go upstairs and check if anybody is about."
"Wait, Major." She clung onto him.
"I'll be quick," he assured her.
Aria stood rooted to the spot, stunned. Her heart pounded in her chest with fear and also rage. Who did this? Why?
He came downstairs a heartbeat later. "Whoever did this is long gone. I'll call security, so we can have access to the cameras."
"This is a safe estate and this shouldn't have happened. I'm the only one with the key card to my door."
"As long as it's an electronic device, it can get hacked into."
She tilted her head. "What is that?"
He spun around. Her oval mirror.
A lipstick kiss on the mirror. Beneath it: "How's it feel to be powerless?" written in red.
"Sienna," he muttered under his breath.
"Okay… I don't feel safe staying here anymore."
"We'll go to my apartment then."
On the car ride back to his penthouse, she asked, "Do you know who is behind this?"
"I'm suspecting Ricci, my wife's father. It looks petty, so it might be Sienna that personally trashed it, but she has heavy mafia backing."
"Jaden Estates is one of the safest estates in Italy, yet they could still do that."
"Tomorrow morning, I'll have two bodyguards assigned to you."
"Perfect. Just perfect," she smirked.
He glanced sideways. "It's for your own protection."
"Or a method to monitor me," she shot back.
"Huh?"
She only shook her head.
When he pulled into the private entrance of his penthouse, she was still silent. She simply stepped out, unbothered and regal.
"I sent some men to fix the house up. You'll likely stay with me till they're done," he called after her.
"And when will that be?"
"Maybe in two weeks' time."
In the elevator, she stood with her arms crossed. A queen again. A closed vault.
He remembered the last time she was here. The way she had leaned in against his chest, sleepy and soft, whispering promises in a dark room. And now she stood beside him like a stranger.
The doors opened.
She walked in first.
She kicked off her heels at the doorway, tossed her coat over the sofa, and moved to the bar like it was her apartment.
Major stayed behind, unsure.
"Drink?" she asked, lifting a bottle of dark whiskey.
He nodded. "Yeah."
She poured one glass. Only one. Then turned, handed it to him, and sat down.
He took a sip, then sat beside her, careful to keep just enough distance.
"What are we doing, Major?" she asked finally. Her voice was low but steady. "Are we playing pretend? Or are you going to admit that you can't decide whether you want me or not?"
His heart thudded.
"It's not that simple."
"To me, it is. I want honesty. I want respect. Not half-steps and backstage kisses."
"You think I don't respect you?"
"I think," she said, slowly uncrossing her legs, "you like having me... when it's convenient."
He reached for her hand. She let him take it, but only briefly.
"I want you because I care," he said.
She leaned in slightly. "Or because you can't stand not having me?"
He paused.
She smiled. But it wasn't soft.
"Thought so."
She stood and walked toward the sofa, sitting back with a relaxed poise. Her dress rode up her thighs, and she made no move to adjust it.
"You want me to stay?" he asked.
She tilted her head. "Only if you're not afraid of losing control."
His breath caught.
He crossed the space slowly, unsure who this Aria was. But utterly drawn to her.
She pulled him down by the collar.
The kiss was brief.
"Not so fast," she murmured.
He blinked.
"You always get to lead. You always get to decide how far we go. Not tonight."
Her hand slid to his shirt, unbuttoning it, slow and purposeful.
Then she leaned back. "Take your time. Show me what you want. Not what you think I want."
Major obeyed. Hands slightly shaking.
He unzipped her dress, inch by inch. He kissed her collarbone down to her shoulder. He sucked on her hipbone. She arched slightly, approving, wanting a deeper taste of his lips but never letting him rush.
Every gasp from her was permission. Every moan was a reward.
He looked up at her. "Do you want me to stop?"
She stared down, eyes dark with power. "Why would I stop something I'm in complete control of?"
It was the most arousing thing he'd ever heard.
Their bodies met on the soft couch cushions. It wasn't frantic. It wasn't rushed. It was precise. It was hers.
She guided him. She told him where to touch and how to move. Where to touch her where it pleases her.
He listened. He obeyed. He worshipped.
And in the quiet panting between kisses, he caught a whisper from her lips:
"If I give you my body tonight, don't think it means you have my heart again."
He looked into her eyes. "Then I'll just have to earn that separately."
Afterward, she rolled away from him.
Her back was bare.
He reached for her, brushing her hair off her neck.
She murmured, "Don't."
And Major froze.
Still naked, still full of her scent and her fire, he realized something terrifying:
She had him now.
Not the other way around.