The house was unusually calm.
No shouting. No accusations.
Vanessa was gone.
The contract sat locked away.
And for the first time in weeks, Aria didn't feel like a prisoner inside her own marriage.
She stood by the kitchen window, staring out at the garden where raindrops still clung to the rose petals.
Her hand gently cradled her stomach.
So much had changed.
So much was still unknown.
But one thing was clear now. Damien Voss wasn't just the man she married for revenge.
He was the man whose touch haunted her.
Whose voice stayed in her dreams.
And whose heart flawed as it was was slowly reaching for hers.
Upstairs, Damien stared at a small gift box.
Inside it was a charm bracelet.
Simple. Elegant.
With a tiny rose gold heart, engraved with the initial A.
He wasn't a romantic. He wasn't soft.
But he wanted to give her something that said:
I see you.
I choose you.
He didn't know if she'd accept it.
But he had to try.
That night, Aria was in the library, curled up in a chair with a book she wasn't really reading.
When Damien entered, she looked up quickly.
He didn't speak at first. Just walked in and sat across from her, his hands resting on the arms of the chair.
The silence stretched between them, but it was warm now. Familiar.
"I wanted to give you something," he said finally.
She blinked. "Why?"
He pulled the box from his jacket and held it out.
"For no reason. Or… maybe for every reason."
Aria hesitated, then took it and opened the lid slowly.
Her breath caught. "It's beautiful."
"It's not much," he said quietly. "But I wanted you to have something that wasn't tied to obligation. Or our deal. Just… something from me."
She stared at the heart charm, fingers brushing the A. "You remembered my initial."
"I remember everything," he said. "Even the way your voice shakes when you're scared, or how you pretend to hate red roses even though you stop to smell them every morning."
Her eyes snapped to his.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
"Because I meant what I said," he replied. "I'm falling for you."
Aria's throat tightened. "Damien…"
"I know you don't trust easily. I don't either. But I want to try. Not for the contract. Not for the child. For us."
She looked at him for a long time.
And then without a word she stood, walked to him, and knelt beside his chair.
Her hand rested over his.
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"I know."
"I don't know how to love someone who once stood on the same side as my pain."
His fingers wrapped around hers. "Then let me show you how."
He kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not demanding.
But careful like he was learning her heart, not just her body.
Her hands slid around his shoulders, anchoring herself to him.
It wasn't fire and lust this time.
It was a quiet surrender.
She felt it in the way his breath stilled when she touched his cheek.
In the way her tears slid between their lips, and he didn't flinch.
They were broken people.
With broken pasts.
But somehow… in that moment…
They fit.
Later, they lay in silence on the bed, tangled together.
Damien ran his hand gently across her back.
"I thought I'd never let anyone in again," he murmured. "But you…"
"I didn't mean to," she whispered. "It just happened."
He kissed the top of her head. "You can stay here. In my room. If you want."
She looked up at him.
"You're sure?" she asked.
He nodded. "This house is too big to keep pretending we're strangers."
She smiled softly, resting her head against his chest. "Okay."
Downstairs, hidden in the shadows of the gate, a camera clicked.
A man in a dark hoodie lowered his phone and smirked.
"She's still with him," he muttered.
Then he sent the photo Aria curled in Damien's arms to an unknown number.
A reply came seconds later:
Good. Keep watching. The game isn't over yet.
—V