Aria’s POV
He pulled against his chest, still breathing hard, but I felt the exact mont the dications began to win. His grip loosened slightly, his breathing deepened. ’Fuck,’ he mumbled, fighting it. ’The ds...’
’It’s okay,’ I whispered. ’Sleep.’
His hand found mine, lacing our fingers together as his body went heavy against . "Aria?" Damien’s voice was drowsy—the dications kicking in.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for not giving up on , on us."
"Never." I squeezed him gently. "I’m never giving up on us again."
"Good." His breathing was slowing. "Because I’m keeping you forever. You and Noah both, you are my family."
"Your family," I echoed softly.
He fell asleep holding , and I stayed there, listening to his breathing, feeling his warmth, and marveling at how much had changed.
A year ago—hell, a few months ago—I would have run. Would have assud the worst. But not anymore.
Now I know better. I knew him better. I knew myself better.And I knew, with absolute certainty, that whatever ca next—whether it was Sophia’s trial, Vivian’s revenge, Marcus’s threats, or just the everyday challenges of building a life together—we would face it as partners.
My phone buzzed one more ti. "Touching. Very touching, you both played your parts perfectly. But Aria? This was just the opening act, the real show hasn’t even started yet. —V"
My blood ran cold. Vivian. I looked down at Damien, sleeping peacefully against , and made a silent vow:
Whatever Vivian and Marcus were planning, whatever ca next—I would be ready.Because I’d already lost my family once. I wasn’t losing them again.
***********
Morning light filtered through the hospital blinds, painting stripes across Damien’s sleeping face. I’d stayed all night, curled against him in the narrow bed, and sohow managed to sleep better than I had in weeks.
Maybe it was knowing I’d made the right choice. That I’d trusted my instincts instead of my fear. Or maybe it was just him—the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth of his arms, the feeling of being exactly where I belonged.
"You’re staring," Damien murmured, eyes still closed.
"You’re awake," I countered.
"It’s hard to sleep when the most beautiful woman in the world is watching like I might disappear." He opened his eyes, and they were clear now, the fog of drugs gone. "How long have you been awake?"
"About an hour." I traced patterns on his chest through the thin hospital gown. "I called Noah earlier. Told him you were sick but getting better."
"How’d he take it?"
"He wants to visit. Bring you his stuffed T-Rex for protection." I smiled. "I told him maybe later, after the doctors say it’s okay."
"I want to see him." Damien’s voice was thick. "I need to see him. To know he’s" He stopped.
"Safe?" I finished. "He is. Richards doubled security at the penthouse. Noah thinks it’s cool that he has ’bodyguards like a superhero.’"
Damien laughed, then winced. "Still hurts to laugh."
"That’s what happens when soone drugs you with Rohypnol." I sat up carefully. "The doctor said you’ll feel off for a few days. Headaches, nausea, mory gaps around the incident."
"I don’t rember anything after Sophia handed that drink." His jaw clenched. "One minute we’re discussing contract terms—which I now realize was complete bullshit—and the next I’m waking up here with you."
"That’s normal with rohypnol. The amnesia is part of why" I stopped, not wanting to finish that sentence.
"Part of why it’s used in assaults," Damien finished flatly. "I know. The doctor explained." He caught my hand. "Aria, I need to ask you sothing."
"Okay."
"Why?" His eyes searched mine. "Why did you believe so imdiately? Last ti, when Vivian—you didn’t even question whether it was true. You just assud I’d betrayed you."
I was quiet for a mont, organizing my thoughts. "Last ti, I didn’t know you. Not really, you kept at arm’s length. Barely spoke to , treated like an obligation. So when I walked in and saw you with Vivian, it made sense. It fit the narrative that you didn’t want , that I was just a contract to you. And coupled with the fact you were non chalant about being caught, like you didn’t care if you were hurting ."
"And now?" His voice was soft.
"Now I’ve seen you with Noah. Seen how you light up when he runs to you, how patient you are when he asks the sa dinosaur question fifty tis, how you check on him every night before bed." I smiled slightly. "I’ve seen you work—the way you treat your employees with respect, how you take responsibility when things go wrong, how you’ve restructured half of Blackwood Enterprises to be more ethical."
"Those are just"
"Let finish." I squeezed his hand. "I’ve seen you with . How you rember my coffee order, how you never push when I need space, how you’ve apologized and ant it and backed up those apologies with action. Day after day, week after week, you’ve shown exactly who you are now. And that man?" I t his eyes. "That man doesn’t throw away his family for Sophia Clarke in a hotel room. He just doesn’t."
"You sound so certain." His voice was wondering.
"I am certain." I leaned closer. "Because I know you now, Damien. Really know you. And I trust you."
"Even after what I did years ago? Even knowing I’m capable of that kind of cruelty?"
"You were capable of that cruelty," I corrected. "Past tense. The man in front of isn’t that man anymore. And I’m not the broken girl I was then either. We’re different people building sothing new. So yes—even knowing our history, even knowing you hurt —I trust you. Because I’ve seen the work you’ve done to change, and I believe in that change."
A tear slid down his cheek. "I don’t deserve you."
"Stop saying that." I wiped the tear away. "You deserve soone who sees you—all of you, the good and the bad and the complicated—and chooses you anyway. And I’m choosing you, Damien. Every single day.""Why?" His voice broke. "After everything I did, why would you choose ?"
"Because you’re choosing us." I touched his face gently. "You’re showing up for Noah, you’re proving yourself to , you’re doing the hard work of becoming better. And I" I paused, gathering courage. "I’m falling in love with this version of you. Maybe I already have fallen. And this ti, I’m not running from it."
His breath caught, and I watched emotions flicker across his face—disbelief, wonder, fear, hope. "You’re falling in love with ?" His voice cracked on the words. "Even knowing what I’m capable of? Even knowing I destroyed you once?"
"You didn’t destroy , Damien. You hurt , yes. But I survived it. Grew from it. And the man in front of now?" I cupped his face gently. "You’re not that person anymore. You’ve proven it every single day."
"I keep waiting for you to wake up and realize you deserve better," he admitted, voice raw. "Soone who loved you right from the start. Soone who didn’t have to learn how to be human first."
"But then we wouldn’t be us," I said softly. "And I don’t want anyone else. I want the man who sits on hardwood floors at three AM telling dinosaur stories until Noah feels safe. I want the man who rembers I hate hotel coffee and brings the good stuff from the café six blocks away. I want the man who’s doing the hard, painful work of becoming better—not because it’s easy, but because he thinks we’re worth it."
"You are worth it," he said fiercely. "Both of you. You’re worth everything."
"Then believe when I say you’re worth it too." I pressed my forehead to his. "We’re both worth fighting for. This—us—is worth fighting for."
"I love you," he breathed. "God, Aria, I love you so much it terrifies ."
"Good," I whispered back. "Love should be a little terrifying. It ans it matters."
"Aria." He pulled down into a kiss—soft, reverent, full of emotion. When we broke apart, he was crying openly. "I love you. God, I love you so much. And I swear, I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of that love."
"You already are," I whispered. "You just have to believe it."
We stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in. The world outside could wait—the press, the legal battles, the enemies circling. Right now, it was just us.
A knock on the door broke the mont. Dr. Morris entered, tablet in hand. "Good morning. How are we feeling, Mr. Blackwood?"
"Better." Damien sat up slightly. "Head still hurts, but the nausea’s mostly gone."
"Good." Dr. Morris checked his vitals. "Toxicology confird rohypnol in therapeutic doses, which is actually fortunate. A higher dose could have caused respiratory depression. You were very lucky Ms. Monroe found you when she did."
"I know." Damien’s hand found mine again. "Can I go ho today?"
"I’d like to keep you for observation another twelve hours," Dr. Morris said. "Make sure there are no complications. But barring any issues, you can be discharged this evening."
After the doctor left, Damien turned to . "You should go ho. Check on Noah, get so real rest. I know you didn’t sleep well in this bed."
"I’m not leaving you." My voice was firm.
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