The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, painting the master bedroom in a warm, golden hue. Damian was already awake, his every movement precise and deliberate. His suit deep charcoal with a subtle sheen fit like it had been crafted for power itself.
He adjusted his cufflinks, glanced once toward the bed, and paused.
Ariana slept soundly, her hair sprawled across the pillow, her face soft and peaceful. For a man known across Aridanne as ruthless and untouchable, the small smile that touched his lips was almost shocking.
He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"Sleep well, my angel," he whispered before leaving the room.
The mansion's halls were silent as he exited. Outside, his convoy waited — sleek cars lined like shadows. Guards bowed respectfully as the world's most feared man stepped into the backseat of his Maybach.
****
At Steel Corporation, whispers died the moment Damian walked in. The towering skyscraper was a monument to his influence and his mystery. Few had ever seen him up close.
He entered his private elevator, accessible only by fingerprint and voice scan. The elevator whisked him directly to the top floor his domain.
"Good morning, sir," said Evan, his assistant, waiting with a tablet in hand.
"Morning," Damian replied curtly. "Board meeting status?"
"They're ready for you."
Inside the conference room, the directors rose immediately. Damian's presence filled the air like static commanding, unrelenting.
"Sit," he said simply.
They obeyed.
Quarterly reports, expansion plans, and investor negotiations followed. At one point, a manager stumbled over an explanation about a missed target. Damian's gaze lifted cold, unreadable.
"I don't pay for excuses," he said quietly. "I pay for results."
The manager swallowed hard and nodded.
When the meeting ended, Damian inspected the company's newest project site on the edge of Aridanne a luxury high-rise that would redefine the skyline. Workers froze when his convoy arrived. He surveyed everything with sharp eyes, asking brief, precise questions.
By noon, Evan handed him a tablet. "Sir, would you like to postpone your international conference call?"
"No. Proceed as scheduled," Damian said. "And send flowers to the mansion. White lilies. Deliver them directly to Mrs. Steel."
Evan hesitated, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "She still doesn't like being called that."
Damian's eyes flickered with amusement. "She'll get used to it."
****
At home, Ariana sat on the patio, sketching quietly while sipping tea. The doorbell rang, and the butler entered moments later, holding a bouquet of fresh white lilies.
"From Mr. Steel, ma'am," he said with a small bow.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she took them. A small card rested among the petals.
> For the woman who brings calm to my chaos.
D.S.
Ariana smiled softly — confused, flustered, but deeply touched.
She thought of her grandmother then, how she missed her warmth. Her phone rested in her palm for minutes before she finally called.
"Grandma?"
"Ah, my dear! It's been too long. Are you eating well? Working hard?"
"Yes," Ariana replied quickly. She couldn't tell her about the marriage — not yet. "I'm fine, Grandma. Just... trying to adjust to a new environment."
Her grandmother chuckled warmly. "That's good. Remember, my dear — no matter how busy life gets, don't lose yourself."
Ariana blinked back sudden emotion. "I won't, Grandma. I promise."
****
That night, Damian returned home, his usual cold aura melting the moment he saw her waiting in the living room.
"You're still awake," he said quietly.
"I was waiting for you," she admitted.
He loosened his tie and walked closer, his eyes soft. "Then I'll make sure I don't keep you waiting next time."
The world might have seen him as untouchable — but here, in this quiet home, Damian Steel was just a man in love with his wife.