Damien was on his feet instantly. "Grandfather."
Richard Blackwood entered the dining room with the kind of presence that made everyone else seem diminished. At seventy-eight, he was still tall, still imposing, with silver hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
"Damien, my boy." Richard’s voice was warm as he embraced his grandson. "I hope you don’t mind the surprise. Harold ntioned he was having a small dinner party and suggested I might want to attend. Incognito, as it were."
Damien’s jaw clenched. Harold had set this up. Had arranged for his grandfather to observe Aria at her worst, struggling with silverware and social protocols she’d never needed before.
"I’m glad you’re here," Damien said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "Though I wish I’d known."
"If you’d known, it wouldn’t have been an honest observation, would it?" Richard’s eyes moved past Damien to where Aria still sat, frozen in her chair. "And you must be Aria Chen."
Aria stood slowly, and Damien could see her hands trembling slightly. She knew. Knew this was the mont everything could fall apart.
"Mr. Blackwood," she said, her voice steadier than he’d expected. "It’s an honor to et you."
"Is it?" Richard moved closer, studying her with an intensity that made Damien want to step between them. "I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Miss Chen. So from my grandson. So from... other sources."
"I’m sure you have," Aria said evenly. "And I’m sure most of it was unflattering."
The room held its breath.
Richard’s eyebrows rose. "Direct. I appreciate that. So many young won these days try to be what they think I want rather than showing who they actually are."
"I wouldn’t know how to be anyone but myself, sir."
"Even if yourself isn’t what I’d choose for my grandson?"
Aria’s chin lifted. "Even then. Damien deserves soone honest. Soone who won’t pretend to be sothing they’re not just to gain approval. If that makes unsuitable in your eyes, then I’m unsuitable. But I won’t lie about who I am."
Damien’s heart clenched. She was magnificent. Terrified but refusing to back down.
Richard studied her for a long mont. "Sit. Let’s finish this dinner, and then you and I will talk. Privately."
It wasn’t a request.
Damien started to protest, but Aria caught his eye and shook her head slightly. She’d face this herself.
They returned to their seats, but the entire dynamic had changed. Richard’s presence dominated the room, and even Harold seed uncertain now that his sche had produced unexpected results.
The al continued, but the conversation was muted. Everyone aware that sothing important was happening, that Richard Blackwood was assessing, judging, determining the future.
Aria used the wrong silverware twice more. Didn’t know what wine paired with which course. Called a duchess "Mrs." instead of "Your Grace."
Every mistake was a nail in the coffin of Harold’s design.
But through it all, she remained honest. Admitted when she didn’t know sothing. Asked questions instead of pretending. And treated everyone.....from the duchess to the serving staff.....with the sa genuine respect.
When dessert was served, Richard stood.
"Miss Chen, would you join in the library? I believe we have things to discuss."
Aria rose, her composure perfect despite the fear Damien could see in her eyes.
"Grandfather...." Damien started.
"You’ll get your turn," Richard said. "But first, I want to speak with Aria alone."
Damien wanted to argue. Wanted to protect her from whatever judgnt was coming.
But Aria touched his hand briefly as she passed. "It’s okay. I can handle this."
Then she followed Richard Blackwood out of the dining room, leaving Damien surrounded by vultures who thought they’d just witnessed her downfall.
The library was magnificent....floor-to-ceiling books, leather chairs, the sll of old paper and expensive scotch. Richard gestured to a chair across from his, and Aria sat, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap.
For a long mont, he just looked at her.
"You’re not what I expected," he said finally.
"I’m sure I’m not."
"Harold painted a picture of a gold-digger. A clever girl using her looks and her position to trap my grandson into a relationship that would elevate her status."
"And after tonight? After watching fumble through dinner, use the wrong forks, say the wrong things....do you agree with his assessnt?"
"I think," Richard said slowly, "that Harold Ashford is a manipulative bastard who staged that entire dinner to make you look unsuitable. And I think you knew it was a trap and walked into it anyway because you love my grandson enough to face judgnt rather than hide."
Aria’s breath caught.
"I’ve been watching you for three hours, Miss Chen. Through dinner, through the social minefield Harold created. And do you know what I saw?"
"Soone who doesn’t belong in this world?"
"I saw soone honest. Soone kind to serving staff and society matrons alike. Soone who admitted what she didn’t know rather than pretending. Soone who, when insulted and diminished, still treated her torntors with grace." He leaned forward. "That’s not common in this world. Most people here would have fought back, tried to prove themselves, made excuses. You just... existed. Honestly. Authentically."
"I don’t know how to be anything else."
"I know. That’s exactly my point." Richard poured two glasses of scotch, handed her one. "Tell about my grandson. How did you et?"
Here it was. The mont she could lie, could spin a prettier version of their story.
"I infiltrated his estate as a maid under a false identity to steal a rare plant he was cultivating. I needed it to save my mother’s life. He caught , and instead of having arrested, he... complicated things."
Richard’s expression didn’t change. "Complicated how?"
"He offered a choice. Prison or... him. His terms, his conditions, his control. I chose him." She t his eyes steadily. "I fell in love with him. Really, genuinely in love. Not with his money or his na or what he could give . With him. The man who saw past all my lies and chose to give a chance anyway."
"And he loves you?"
"He says he does. Though sotis I think he struggles with trusting that love after I lied to him."
"Trust is earned. You violated his in a profound way."
"I know. I don’t bla him for the struggle. I bla myself."
Richard was quiet for a mont, sipping his scotch. "My grandson has never brought a woman to et . In thirty-one years, not once has he cared enough about soone to want my opinion. Do you understand what that ans?"
"That I’m important to him?"
"That you’re everything to him. Damien doesn’t do things halfway. When he commits, he commits completely. Which ans if this relationship ends, it will destroy him."
"I won’t end it. I won’t hurt him."
"You already did. When you lied. When you betrayed his trust. The question is....can you be trusted not to do it again?"
Aria felt tears threaten but forced them back. "I would rather die than hurt him again. I love him. I love him enough to walk away if that’s what’s best for him. Love him enough to endure dinners like tonight if that’s what he needs from . Love him enough to spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of the chance he gave ."
"And if I told you I don’t approve? That I think you’re unsuitable for the Blackwood na?"
"Then I’d tell you I respect your opinion but it won’t change how I feel. I won’t leave him unless he asks to. And even then, I’d fight like hell to change his mind."
Richard smiled....the first real smile she’d seen from him. "Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear."
"I—what?"
"Miss Chen, I didn’t co here tonight to judge you. I ca to see if you had the spine to stand up to people like Harold Ashford. To see if you’d crumble under pressure or fight back. To see if you loved my grandson for himself or for what he represents."
"And?"
"And you passed every test I didn’t even know I was giving you." He raised his glass. "Welco to the family, Aria Chen. God help you."
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