Ariana spent most of the morning quietly inside her room, trying to settle her thoughts.
Damian's ex-fiancée returning…
Calling her "nothing"…
Damian defending her…
His closeness…
His voice…
Everything weighed heavily on her chest.
She needed air.
So she walked toward the garden—something she hadn't explored yet.
The mansion's garden was massive, lined with roses, trimmed hedges, and a fountain that shimmered under the sunlight. Ariana inhaled deeply. Peaceful. Calm. Beautiful.
She sat on a stone bench, rubbing the silver bracelet Damian had given her.
"It's symbolic," he'd said.
Symbolic of what?
She wasn't brave enough to guess.
---
Inside the Mansion
Damian stood by the window in his study, watching Ariana walk through the garden.
Her soft steps, her quiet presence…
She brought something into his home he had never felt before.
Warmth.
His phone vibrated.
It was his assistant.
"Sir, there are already online rumors about your visitor from this morning."
Damian's eyes sharpened.
"The ex-fiancée?"
"Yes. Some claim she is attempting to win you back."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"She will not succeed."
"And some are questioning your marriage."
Damian's voice dropped to steel.
"My marriage is not up for debate."
The assistant hesitated.
"Should I release the wedding certificate publicly?"
"No," Damian said immediately.
"She doesn't want attention."
His assistant understood instantly.
Damian didn't want Ariana dragged into the spotlight.
"Very well, sir. I'll monitor the situation quietly."
When the call ended, Damian's gaze returned to Ariana.
She sat alone in the garden, sunlight brushing her hair, her face soft and thoughtful.
She didn't know there were women trying to take her place.
She didn't know everyone wanted to be Mrs. Steele.
She didn't know how many eyes watched her every step now.
But Damian knew.
And he would never let the world touch her.
---
In the Garden
Ariana was lost in thought when a shadow fell across the grass.
She turned—and gasped softly.
Damian was standing there.
Still masked.
Still dressed in dark, expensive fabric.
His presence alone made the garden feel smaller.
"You're sitting alone," he said.
"I just needed fresh air," she murmured.
He sat beside her.
Not too close—
but close enough that she felt the warmth of his shoulder.
She bit her lip.
"About earlier… your ex-fiancée—"
"She is irrelevant," Damian said before she could finish.
Ariana looked down.
"But she said I'm unfit to be with you."
"You are my wife," he said slowly.
"She has no right to question what is mine."
Ariana's cheeks flushed.
"But… I don't even use your last name."
His head turned slightly.
"Do you want to?"
Her eyes widened.
"N-No! I mean, not that I don't like it— I just… I feel like I haven't earned it."
Damian's gaze softened.
"You don't have to earn anything."
"I'm just a girl from a poor home," Ariana whispered.
"I don't know how to behave in high society. I don't know their rules. I don't know anything about this world."
"That is exactly why I brought you into it," Damian said quietly.
"Because you are not them."
Ariana blinked at him.
Damian continued, voice lower:
"You are honest.
You are simple.
You have nothing to prove."
He looked away slightly, as if confessing something difficult.
"You are the first person who sees me without seeing the name 'Steele.'"
Her heart fluttered.
"But you don't have to use my name," he added.
"I won't force you. When or if you take it… it will be your choice."
Ariana swallowed hard.
"I… I don't know what to say."
Damian stood slowly.
"You don't have to say anything."
But as he turned to leave—
Ariana spoke softly.
"Damian."
He paused.
She met his eyes.
"Thank you. For everything today."
Something in his expression changed.
Just a flicker.
Something she couldn't name.
"You're welcome," he said quietly.
And for the first time, Ariana wasn't sure if she was thanking him for defending her…
or for caring about her more than she expected.