The evening settled over Aridanne with a quiet stillness, the sky painted in strokes of amber and fading blue. The mansion glowed softly, its warm lights a stark contrast to Damian Steel's cold, dominating world outside.
Ariana stepped into the living room first, unaware of the quiet storm building behind her. She slipped off her shoes, humming faintly as she crossed the marble floor. Something about being with Damian all day had left her unsettled, but also strangely comforted.
Damian paused at the doorway, watching her.
To any other person, he was a fortress unreadable, untouchable, feared even by the elite. But right now, in this quiet moment, even he felt the faintest tremor of emotion.
She had no idea how effortlessly she softened him.
Ariana turned, startled to find him staring.
"Are you coming in?" she asked lightly.
Damian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked forward with measured steps, removing his suit jacket with one smooth motion. Evan had once joked that Damian could make even breathing look intimidating and it was true. Everything he did carried an air of precise, controlled power.
Ariana swallowed as he came closer.
"Is something wrong?"
He shook his head.
"No."
But his voice was different lower, deeper. Almost… thoughtful.
Ariana moved toward the kitchen. "I'll heat dinner. You must be hungry."
Before she could take another step, Damian reached out, gently but firmly taking her wrist.
"Ariana."
She turned.
He didn't speak at once. His thumb brushed her wrist, almost unconsciously. She blinked at the unexpected softness.
"You didn't like today," he said quietly.
Her breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"You were nervous."
"It was your workplace," she said softly. "I wasn't expecting to go there."
"And the man who looked at you."
Ariana flushed instantly. "Damian, that wasn't—"
"It bothered me."
Ariana stared up at him, lost for words. The admission was simple, raw. And coming from Damian Steel the man who rarely voiced feelings it meant far more than she could process.
"Why?" she whispered.
His gaze darkened, voice dropping to a deep murmur.
"Because you're mine."
The words struck her like lightning not as ownership, but as something deeper, more vulnerable. He wasn't talking about possession. He was talking about fear.
Fear of losing her.
Fear of someone else reaching for her.
Fear of risk the kind he never tolerated.
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, his phone vibrated sharply.
The moment shattered.
Damian released her wrist slowly, stepping away as he answered the call. His voice changed instantly shifting into that chilling tone reserved for threats and business.
"Report."
Ariana's heart tightened.
She hated that voice not because he used it, but because it reminded her how dangerous his world truly was.
Damian walked toward the large window, staring out into the darkness beyond the mansion grounds.
Evan's voice filtered through the line.
"We traced the photographer's employer. They were hired by Lady Lena Hart. She paid a large sum to get photos of the mansion."
Ariana didn't hear the other side, but she noticed Damian's body stiffen, then relax in a terrifyingly calm manner.
His reply was soft.
Too soft.
"Deal with it."
A quiet pause.
Evan understood that tone very well.
"Understood, sir."
The call ended.
Ariana took a timid step closer. "Damian… was that—"
"Nothing for you to worry about."
His tone was gentle, but final.
He wouldn't tell her.
He couldn't tell her.
Not yet.
Lena Hart his ex-fiancée had crossed a dangerous line. And Damian would make sure she regretted the day she ever tried to involve his wife.
Damian turned back to Ariana, his features straightening.
"Eat with me."
It wasn't a request.
They sat at the long dining table, though Damian closed the distance by choosing the chair closest to hers. Ariana ate quietly. Damian watched her more than he ate.
Halfway through the meal, he asked,
"Did you enjoy painting today?"
Ariana blinked. "Yes… You remembered?"
"I don't forget things about you."
Her heart thudded.
Damian Steel the man who ran a multinational empire, the man feared across the country remembered her small, quiet world of paint and brushes.
She lowered her gaze, cheeks warming.
After dinner, Damian followed her to the staircase. Ariana froze halfway up the steps when she sensed him behind her.
"Damian?" she whispered.
He reached past her, placing a hand on the rail beside hers.
Not touching her.
Just close enough for her to feel his warmth.
"Stay close to me," he said softly.
"There are things moving in the shadows… and I won't let them reach you."
Ariana's chest tightened.
"Okay," she whispered.
Damian nodded once, satisfied.
As she climbed the stairs ahead of him, he watched her with a gaze filled with something no one else would ever believe he could feel.
Possessiveness.
Fear.
Devotion.
A growing love he didn't dare name yet.
But one truth pulsed through him like a heartbeat:
He would protect her even if it meant burning the whole world down.