Aria’s POV
The conference room at Blackwood Tower buzzed with anticipation. Cara flashes exploded like fireworks as reporters jostled for position, their voices creating a wall of noise that pressed against my skull.
Noah was ho. Safe. Sleeping in Damien’s penthouse with the house keeper watching over him while we faced the dia vultures one more ti.
The FBI had insisted on this follow-up press conference. "Control the narrative," Agent Sarah had said. "Don’t let speculation fill the gaps."
So here I was again, gripping another podium, with Damien beside . Close enough that our shoulders almost touched.
"Ms. Monroe, is it true your son was kidnapped?" A reporter in the front row shouted, as if our recent dramatic confession hadn’t already answered that question a hundred tis over.
I opened my mouth, forcing myself to relive it one more ti. My throat tightened with the mory of Noah’s terrified face on that video call, even though he was safe now. Safe and ho.
Damien’s hand found mine under the podium. His fingers laced through mine, warm and steady.
I should pull away. Should maintain the distance we’d barely re-established after everything that had happened. But I needed the anchor, needed sothing to keep from drowning in this sea of vultures demanding we relive our trauma for their evening broadcasts.
So I let him hold my hand.
"Yes." My voice ca out stronger than I felt. "As we disclosed recently during our initial statent, my three-year-old son was taken by Marcus Blackwood. He was recovered safely by the FBI during the press conference and is now ho."
The timing had been perfect—terrifyingly, miraculously perfect. While we’d been destroying ourselves on live television, confessing our sins and surrendering everything, the FBI had been storming that warehouse. They’d found Noah scared but unhard.
"Were you involved with Damien Blackwood while he was engaged to your sister?" another reporter called out, clearly trying to dig for new angles on yesterday’s revelations.
"No." I say. "As I stated recently, I married Damien years ago in a business arrangent. My sister betrayed at our wedding reception. I discovered I was pregnant before leaving, and I raised my son alone abroad for three years."
The caras went crazy again. Even though this was old news—they wanted the sound bites, wanted to perform my pain again for a new audience.
Damien squeezed my hand tighter, then stepped forward. "Let be clear about sothing we didn’t address."
His voice cut through the noise as the room fell silent.
"Noah is my son." He looked directly into the caras, his jaw set with the sa determination I’d when he’d surrendered his entire empire. "I was a fool who lost precious ti with him because of my own blindness and cruelty. That changes now. I will be a part of his life from this mont forward, whether his mother forgives or not."
My breath caught. The certainty in his voice, the raw honesty—it wasn’t practiced or calculated. It was real.
"Mr. Blackwood, you gave up Blackwood Enterprises to your brother. Do you regret that decision?" A woman in the back called out.
"Not for a second." Damien’s hand tightened on mine again. "My son’s life is worth more than any company, any amount of money, any empire. I would give it all up a thousand tis over to bring him ho safely."
"What about the allegations of fraud at Blackwood Enterprises?"
"Being investigated. I’ve already turned over all records to federal authorities." His voice didn’t waver. "If there were illegal dealings under my watch, I’ll face the consequences. But my priority right now is my family’s safety."
Family. He’d called us his family.
I glanced at him, found him already looking at . Sothing in his eyes made my chest ache—hope and fear and desperation all mixed together.
"Ms. Monroe, what’s your relationship status with Mr. Blackwood now?"
I froze. Every eye in the room locked onto , waiting for my answer.
"We’re co-parenting," I said carefully, pulling my hand free from his. "Our focus is on Noah’s well-being and helping him recover from this trauma."
"But you’re staying at his house?"
"For Noah’s stability. That’s all."
"Mr. Blackwood, do you still have feelings for your ex-wife?"
Damien didn’t hesitate. "Yes."
The room erupted again. My heart stopped, then started racing.
"I’ve never stopped having feelings for Aria." He turned to face fully now, ignoring the caras. "I was too stupid and broken to recognize them before. But I see her clearly now. I see what I lost, what I threw away. And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning the right to be in hers."
"Damien." My voice ca out strangled. "This isn’t the place—"
"When is the place?" His eyes searched mine. "You won’t talk to alone. You won’t let explain. So maybe I need to say it here, in front of everyone, so you can’t pretend you didn’t hear it."
"Stop." I could feel tears building. "Please stop."
"I love you, Aria. I loved you then, even when I was too damaged to recognize it. And I love you now, even knowing I have no right to. I love you, and I love our son, and I will never stop fighting for another chance."
A reporter’s voice cut through the shocked silence. "Ms. Monroe, will you take him back?"
I stared at Damien, at the man who’d destroyed and was now laying himself bare in front of dozens of caras. Part of wanted to believe him, to let myself hope. But the wounds were still too fresh, the scars too deep.
"I need ti," I whispered.
"I’ll wait." He said it like a vow. "As long as it takes."
"Mr. Blackwood!" A male reporter near the back stood up. "One more question—will you remarry Ms. Monroe if she’ll have you?"
Damien’s eyes never left mine. "If she’ll have , yes. I’d marry her tomorrow. Today. Right now, in this conference room with all of you as witnesses."
My mouth went dry as the room spun slightly.
"But that’s her choice to make." He finally looked away, addressing the caras. "I’ll respect whatever decision she makes, even if it’s not the one I want. Because that’s what love ans—putting soone else’s happiness above your own."
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The walls were closing in, all these people staring at us, at , waiting for my response to his very public declaration.
"I need" I grabbed the podium. "I need air. Excuse ."
I walked off the stage on shaking legs, ignoring the explosion of questions behind . Damien didn’t follow, giving space even though I could feel his eyes tracking my exit.
The hallway was cooler, quieter. I leaned against the wall and tried to rember how to breathe normally.
He loved . He’d said it in front of everyone. Made himself completely vulnerable. Risked his pride and reputation to tell the world how he felt.
A few years ago, I would have killed to hear those words from him.
Now they terrified more than anything Marcus could do.
Because if I let myself believe him—if I let myself love him back—and he broke again, I wouldn’t survive it.
Damien’s POV
I stood at the podium alone, facing down a room full of jackals who’d just witnessed bare my soul.
Worth it, if it ant Aria heard .
"Mr. Blackwood, isn’t it convenient that you suddenly love your ex-wife now that she’s a successful CEO?" A reporter in designer glasses smirked.
"There’s nothing convenient about loving Aria." I kept my voice level. "She’s brilliant, strong, and doesn’t need for anything—money, status, protection. She built her empire without . That’s not convenient. That’s humbling."
"But you rejected her when she was pregnant and powerless."
"Yes." I say my voice wavering slightly. "I did. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But I’m not asking her to forget what I did. I’m asking for the chance to prove I’ve changed, to show her every day that I see her worth now."
"How do we know this isn’t another business arrangent? That you’re not using the child to manipulate her back into a beneficial marriage?"
My hands clenched into fists. "Because if this were about business, I wouldn’t have given up my company. I wouldn’t have spent three years searching for her with no guarantee she’d ever speak to again. I wouldn’t have just confessed my feelings on live television when I have no idea if she’ll ever forgive ."
I looked directly into the main cara. "Aria Monroe is the strongest person I know. She survived my cruelty, rebuilt herself, and ca back more powerful than I ever was. I don’t deserve her. But I’m selfish enough to want her anyway, to fight for her anyway."
"What if she chooses Lucas Hayes? He’s been seen with her multiple tis, and sources say they’re close."
The na hit like a punch to the gut. Lucas Hayes—the tech mogul who looked at Aria like she was the sun. Who’d never hurt her, never thrown her out pregnant, never made her doubt her worth.
"Then I’ll have to live with that." The words nearly choked . "If Lucas makes her happy, if he treats her the way she deserves, then I’ll step back. But I won’t make it easy for him. I’ll fight for her until she tells to stop."
"Even if it ans losing?"
"Especially then." I gripped the podium. "Because she’s worth fighting for, even if I don’t win. She deserves to know that soone will never stop choosing her, never stop seeing her value. And if that’s all I can give her—the knowledge that I’ll always be here, always be fighting—then that’s what I’ll do."
A female reporter in the front row tilted her head. "That’s quite romantic, Mr. Blackwood. But romance doesn’t undo trauma. How do you plan to actually earn her trust back?"
"One day at a ti." I t her eyes. "By being present for Noah. By respecting Aria’s boundaries. By proving through actions, not just words, that I’ve changed. And if it takes years, if it takes decades, that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere."
"What about Marcus? He’s still at large and has threatened your family."
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