The ride to Damien's estate was longer, quieter, heavier than the trip to the warehouse. Aria sat pressed against the window, her reflection pale in the glass.
Her brother's screams still echoed in her ears, even though Damien's men had dragged him away. Every mile that passed only deepened the pit in her stomach.
When the gates opened, her breath caught. The mansion wasn't what she expected. No rotting iron fences or gothic shadows. Instead, white stone stretched tall against the night sky, glass walls glowing with warm light. Immaculate.
The kind of house that belonged on the cover of a glossy magazine, if not for the armed guards patrolling the perimeter.
Damien led the way inside without a word. The air smelled faintly of leather and cedar. Polished marble floors gleamed under a chandelier dripping with crystal. Everything screamed wealth, power, untouchable control. And yet, as the doors slammed behind her, Aria felt like the walls had swallowed her whole.
"Upstairs," Damien ordered.
Luca nudged her forward, grinning. "Try not to get lost, rabbit. This place eats strays."
Aria stiffened but said nothing. She followed Damien into a dining hall that could have fed an army. The long mahogany table gleamed beneath golden light, already set for dinner. And waiting at that table were faces she didn't recognize.
A woman lounged at one end, no older than Aria, but with a grace that demanded attention. Her dress shimmered like spilled wine, her dark hair pulled into a sleek knot. Her eyes—icy green—raked over Aria, lingering too long.
Beside her sat a man in a tailored suit, his features sharp as if cut from stone. He didn't look at Aria immediately; instead, his cold gaze flicked to Damien, as though silently questioning her presence.
Damien gestured lazily. "Aria, meet my family."
The woman smiled, slow and mocking. "Family, hm?
That's generous of you, brother."
Brother? Aria blinked.
The woman rose gracefully, gliding closer. She smelled faintly of roses and smoke. "Isabella Moretti," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "And you must be the little debt dragging mud into our house."
Aria's cheeks burned.
The man finally spoke, his voice low and cool.
"Victor. Advisor to the Moretti empire. Unlike my colleague here, I don't waste time on petty insults."
His eyes cut to Damien. "But I will ask this once. Why is she here?"
"Because I want her here," Damien replied, voice flat.
Victor's jaw tightened. "Want doesn't balance ledgers. The boy owed you two hundred thousand. You let him live. You bring her here instead. That's sentiment."
"Sentiment?" Isabella scoffed. She circled Aria like a cat with a cornered mouse. "Don't be ridiculous, Victor. Damien doesn't do sentiment. If she's still breathing, it's because he sees some… use." Her lips curved into a sharp smile. "Though I can't imagine what."
Aria bristled. "Maybe I'm more useful than you think."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
The room went still. Isabella's brows lifted in surprise, then delight. "Oh, she has claws." She leaned close, whispering, "Careful, debt-girl. They'll get clipped."
Aria's pulse thundered, but she held her ground.
Damien's voice cut through the tension, low but dangerous. "Enough."
The weight of it silenced the room. Isabella straightened, smirking, while Victor leaned back in his chair, watching carefully.
Damien stepped closer to Aria, his hand brushing her shoulder. "She's mine, that's all the explanation you need."
Isabella's smile sharpened. "Possession. How very Damien of you."
Victor's gaze narrowed, but he said nothing.
Dinner was served in brittle silence. Silverware clinked against porcelain, glasses filled and emptied. Aria forced herself to eat, though each bite turned to ash in her mouth. Isabella never stopped watching her, amusement glittering in her eyes. Victor remained silent, but the weight of his disapproval was heavier than steel.
When it was over, Damien rose first. "Leave us."
Isabella arched a brow. "Already bored of your new toy?"
Damien's eyes flicked to her. One look was enough.
She rose gracefully, blowing a kiss at Aria before slipping out. Victor followed without a word.
The massive hall felt suddenly smaller, quieter. Aria pushed her chair back, desperate for distance, but Damien was already there, his hand braced against the back of her seat.
"You shouldn't speak to Isabella that way," he murmured.
Aria lifted her chin. "Maybe she shouldn't treat me like dirt."
He studied her for a long moment, then smiled..dark, dangerous. "Good. Don't let them break you. Fire suits you." His thumb brushed her jaw, almost gentle. "But be careful. Fire can keep you alive… or burn you alive."
Her breath caught.
Before she could answer, the doors burst open.
Luca strode in, expression grim.
"Boss," he said, voice clipped. "We have a problem.
The boy…Ethan…he's gone."
Aria's chair scraped back with a jolt. "What?"
Damien's smile vanished. His hand fell from her jaw, replaced by a coldness that chilled the air.
"Find him," Damien ordered. His voice was calm, but it was the calm of a storm moments before it hit.
Luca nodded once and vanished.
Aria's heart pounded, relief and dread warring inside her. Ethan was free. But for how long?
Damien turned back to her slowly, his gaze unreadable. "Looks like your brother just made things… interesting."