The smell of burnt dough and cheap oil filled the air the moment I stepped into the shop.
People froze. The workers went silent. The manager — a short, balding man — looked up, his mouth hanging open.
But my eyes weren't on any of them.
They were on her.
Aria stood behind the counter, her hands trembling as she tried to untie her apron. Her eyes were red, her cheeks flushed, her lips pressed tightly together — holding back tears she didn't want anyone to see.
Something inside me twisted.
No matter how much I told myself to stay calm, I couldn't.
I had watched her struggle long enough.
I had watched her walk home alone, tired, hungry, pretending to be strong when she was breaking inside.
And now this man was firing her?
No. Not happening.
> "You're not closing yet," I said, my voice low but cold.
The manager blinked at me, trying to find his words. "Sir, who are you? This is private—"
> "Private?" I stepped closer. "You just fired your best worker in front of customers. That's not private."
Aria's eyes widened. "Jason, stop," she whispered. "Please, just go."
But I couldn't.
I turned to Mr. Davis. "You're making a mistake."
He frowned. "Look, I don't know who you are, but she's been careless. Dropped orders, came late—"
> "She's tired," I snapped. "Not careless. Maybe if you paid her enough to eat, she wouldn't faint while working."
The man's face turned red. The whole shop had gone quiet now. Every worker stood frozen, watching the scene like something out of a movie.
Aria grabbed my arm, her fingers cold. "Jason, stop, please. You're making it worse."
Her voice broke on the last word.
That sound almost killed me.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.
Then I looked the manager dead in the eye.
> "You'll not fire her," I said evenly. "In fact, you'll give her a raise."
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "A raise? Who do you think you are?"
I smiled faintly. "Someone who owns this building."
His jaw dropped.
I took out my phone and showed him the property app — my company name, Blue Moon Holdings, was clearly listed.
I had bought this block months ago for a project that never happened.
The manager went pale. "You— you own this?"
> "I do," I said softly. "So unless you want to start looking for another job, you'll keep her employed. With double pay."
The room went silent again.
No one dared to move.
Aria's hand dropped from my arm. She looked at me like she didn't recognize me anymore.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
> "Jason," she whispered, "why are you doing this?"
I turned toward her. For a moment, I couldn't even breathe.
Because I can't stand seeing you break.
Because you're mine, even if you don't want to be.
Because I owe you everything I stole.
But I didn't say any of that.
> "Because it's fair," I said simply. "You deserve better."
Then I faced the manager again. "You'll fix her schedule. No night shifts. No overwork."
He nodded quickly. "Y-yes, sir. Of course, sir."
I gave him one last look before turning back to Aria. "Let's go."
She froze. "Go? Go where?"
> "We need to talk."
Her eyes narrowed. "There's nothing to talk about."
She tried to walk past me, but I stepped in her way. The scent of her — soft, sweet, familiar — hit me like a storm. My heartbeat quickened, and I fought the urge to pull her close.
> "Aria," I said quietly, "don't fight me on this."
Her jaw tightened. "I'll always fight you."
Then she pushed past me and ran out into the street.
For a few seconds, I stood there — her scent still hanging in the air, my chest burning.
Everyone in the shop was staring, whispering, but I didn't care.
I turned and followed her out.
Outside, the sky had turned gray. The wind picked up, cold and sharp.
She was walking fast down the sidewalk, her hands clutching her apron, trying to wipe her tears.
I followed at a distance, watching her shoulders shake.
That's when it hit me — she wasn't just angry. She was scared.
Scared of me. Scared of trusting again.
And yet… she still didn't know the truth.
That I hadn't come to destroy her life.
I had come to rebuild it — even if I had to do it my way.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my brother, Ivar.
> "Jason," he said, "did you talk to her yet?"
"No," I said, eyes still on Aria's fading figure.
"Then what's the plan?"
I watched her turn the corner, her steps unsteady.
> "The plan?" I said softly. "If she won't let me in as her mate… then I'll make her an offer she can't refuse."
The line went silent.
The rain started to fall.
And I stood there, letting it wash over me — the first drops of a storm I knew was only beginning.