The wind howled across the rooftop, but the heat between Aria and Damien lingered, a tangible force field that seed to keep the cold at bay. Aria was still leaning against the concrete wall, her heart hamring a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Damien stood inches from her, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers. The predatory gleam in his golden eyes hadn’t faded; if anything, the chaotic shouting from the adjacent building seed to sharpen it.
"Boss!" Kai’s voice crackled over the earpiece Damien was wearing, breaking the spell. "We got the rat. You want him brought up? Or should we toss him in the dumpster?"
Damien pressed the comms button, his eyes never leaving Aria’s flushed face. He looked annoyed at the interruption. "Bring him up. And Kai... bring the mory card. Intact."
He stepped back, finally giving Aria space to breathe. He reached for his suit jacket, which had slipped from her shoulders during the... activity... and draped it over her again. He adjusted the lapels with surprisingly gentle hands.
"Compose yourself, Mrs. Sinclair," he murmured. "The audience is arriving."
Aria took a shaky breath, smoothing her wind-blown hair and straightening her blouse. She tried to wipe the dazed look off her face, summoning the cold mask of the ’Black-Belly Queen’. But her lips still tingled.
Five minutes later, the heavy tal door to the roof banged open. Two massive bouncers dragged a struggling figure onto the gravel.
It wasn’t a man.
It was a woman in a dark, oversized hoodie, clutching a smashed Canon cara like a shield. She was trembling violently, her sneakers skidding on the loose stones.
"Let go! You can’t do this! I have rights! I’m a citizen!"
Aria stepped forward, her heels crunching on the gravel. She recognized the voice instantly.
Sarah.
Bella’s personal assistant. The one who usually fetched Bella’s ’diet water’, bullied interns, and ran interference whenever Bella needed to disappear for a ’private eting’.
"Sarah," Aria said pleasantly, her voice cutting through the woman’s panicked babbling. "Nice hoodie. Is that from the ’Stalker Fall Collection’? It really brings out the desperation in your eyes."
Sarah froze. She looked up, her face pale and streaked with soot from the fire escape. "Miss Aria... I... I was just..."
"Birdwatching?" Aria suggested, tilting her head. "At 2 PM? Pointed at my fiancé?"
"With a telephoto lens," Damien added from behind her. He was busy lighting a cigarette, the fla illuminating his sharp features. He looked bored, dangerous, and utterly unbothered.
Aria walked closer. She grabbed Sarah’s wrist—the one holding the cara strap—and yanked it up into the light.
There, glinting in the afternoon sun, was a gold Cartier Love Bracelet.
"Nice bracelet," Aria noted coldly. "It looks familiar. Did Bella give it to you as a bonus? Or did you steal it from her jewelry box?"
Sarah snatched her hand back, tears welling up. "Please! Miss Bella said she was worried! She said you were being held hostage by a gang! She told to get proof so we could save you! I was trying to help!"
"Hostage?" Aria laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. She gestured to Damien, who was leaning against the wall looking like an Armani ad campaign co to life. "Does he look like a kidnapper? Or does he look like a man who just thoroughly enjoyed his lunch?"
Damien exhaled a plu of smoke, his eyes glinting. "I enjoyed the dessert more."
Aria’s ears turned pink. She ignored him, focusing her glare on Sarah.
She reached out and snatched the mory card from Kai, who had just bounded onto the roof holding it like a prize.
"Thanks, Kai."
"Anyti, sister-in-law," Kai winked, looking between Aria’s swollen lips and Damien’s ssy hair. "That make-out session was 4K quality, by the way. I should charge a subscription fee for content like that."
Aria held the mory card up to Sarah’s face. The small black square held the power to destroy a reputation—or build a new one.
"Go back to Bella," Aria said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell her you got the photos. Tell her they are scandalous. Tell her they prove everything she wants."
Sarah blinked, confused, wiping snot from her nose. "What?"
"Tell her to call a press conference," Aria continued, her erald eyes glowing with malice. "Tell her to leak the story that I’m being ’abused’ by Mr. Sinclair. Tell her you have the proof. Tell her I looked terrified."
"But..." Sarah stamred, looking at the mory card Aria was pressing into her hand. "But the photos show you kissing... you looked..."
"Exactly," Aria smiled. "Let her dig the grave. I’ll be the one to push her in."
She tossed the mory card back to Sarah.
"Now run. Before my fiancé decides to practice his target practice."
Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She scrambled up, grabbing the smashed cara and the card, and bolted for the stairs as if the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.
Damien watched her go, his expression unreadable. He flicked his cigarette ash away, watching the embers die in the wind.
"You’re giving her the evidence?" he asked. "That’s a bold move. If Bella edits those photos right, she could make it look non-consensual."
"I’m giving her a shovel," Aria corrected. "Bella is arrogant. She won’t check the photos carefully. She’s lazy. She’ll just see ’Damien grabbing Aria’ in the thumbnails and assu it fits her narrative. She’ll leak it to the press imdiately without vetting it."
"And when the high-res version cos out?" Damien asked.
"Everyone will see that I’m not struggling," Aria smirked. "They’ll see that my arms are around your neck. They’ll see that I’m pulling you closer. And they’ll see that the ’Demon King’ kisses like a romance novel hero."
Damien pushed off the wall. He walked over to her, his shadow engulfing her once more.
"Romance novel hero?" he mused, a dangerous edge to his voice.
He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her neck, right over her pulse point. The skin there was still jumping.
"Careful, Mrs. Sinclair. Don’t write checks your body can’t cash."
Aria looked up at him. The mory of his tongue in her mouth was still making her brain fuzzy. The threat—or was it a promise?—sent a shiver down her spine.
"I... I have money," she stamred weakly, her wit failing her for a second.
Damien laughed. It was a genuine, rich sound. He draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side to shield her from the wind.
"Co on. Let’s go ho. I need another treatnt. That kiss... blocked my Qi again."
Aria rolled her eyes, but she let him guide her toward the stairs, leaning into his warmth.
’Liar,’ she thought, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart against her side. ’But it definitely unblocked sothing.’
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