Bound by One Night

Aria's heart was still thudding against her ribs as she slid into the back of the sleek limousine. The gala's bright lights and murmuring crowd were already fading into memory, replaced by the hush of night as the driver pulled away from the Grand Palais Hotel. Beside her, Damien settled in the seat, radiating a concern that she could feel in the charged silence.

Aria kept her eyes on the window, watching city lights streak by. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still the tremor in her fingers. Damien had been watching her ever since they left early, after he'd announced she wasn't feeling well. It wasn't a lie; an icy dread still coiled in her stomach after Victor's unexpected appearance.

"Aria." Damien's voice was low and careful, cutting through the quiet. She forced herself to meet his storm-gray eyes. "Are you alright?"

She almost said I'm fine, but the words wouldn't come. He had seen her go pale back in the ballroom, had felt her fingers clutch his arm like a lifeline. Aria swallowed hard. "I... I will be," she managed softly.

Damien's jaw tightened. Clearly, that didn't satisfy him. He edged closer on the leather seat. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost back there," he pressed, worry sharpening his tone. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

Aria dropped her gaze to her lap. She could still hear Victor's silken threat in her ear, feel the chill it left behind. But she couldn't tell Damien. Not now—maybe not ever. If he knew the truth... would he still look at her the same, or would everything change?

"It was nothing," she lied quietly, forcing a faint smile. "Too many people. I just got overwhelmed."

Damien didn't look convinced. His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out to her, then halted. "We could have stayed longer," he said softly. "But when I saw you like that... I was worried."

Her chest constricted with guilt and gratitude. In the months since their contract marriage, she had seen glimpses of the man beneath the CEO armor—caring, protective, surprisingly gentle. It would be so easy to lean on him now, to confess that someone from her past was threatening everything. But this was her mess, and she refused to drag him or Noah into it.

"I'm sorry," Aria whispered. "Tonight was just... a lot. I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

Damien searched her face for a long moment. Finally, he exhaled and leaned back, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "Alright," he relented quietly. "We'll drop it for now. But if someone upset you, you can tell me. I meant what I said back when all this started: I will protect you. You and Noah."

Her throat tightened at the earnest promise in his voice. Part of her desperately wanted to believe him. But she had to protect Damien and Noah herself. She'd die before letting Victor or anyone harm them.

"I know," Aria replied, letting a hint of raw honesty seep through. "I appreciate it, Damien. Truly." She managed a small smile and reached over to gently squeeze his hand before she could second-guess the impulse.

His fingers curled around hers at once, warm and solid. The simple contact sent a comforting heat up her arm. "Anytime," he murmured.

They fell into a silence that felt a little less heavy. Aria kept her hand in Damien's larger one, drawing quiet strength from it as the car wound through the sleeping city. Before long, the limousine passed through the wrought-iron gates of the Blackwood estate and up the long drive.

Inside the foyer of the mansion, Aria shrugged off her shawl with Damien's help. His fingers grazed her bare shoulder, sending a quick shiver through her that she prayed he didn't notice. She was bone-tired; the elegant gown suddenly felt unbearably heavy, her feet aching from the heels.

A small voice on the staircase made them both look up. "Mommy?"

Noah stood at the top of the steps in his dinosaur pajamas, clutching a stuffed dragon. His dark curls stuck up in a messy halo, and he rubbed his eyes with a tiny fist.

Aria's heart clenched at the sight. She hurried up the stairs with Damien right behind her. "Noah, baby, what are you doing awake? It's late."

"I had a bad dream," he mumbled, lip quivering. "I dreamed... you were gone."

"Oh, honey." Aria swept him into her arms. Noah burrowed against her neck, his small heart hammering against her. "I'm here. Mommy's right here and I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Damien's hand came to rest gently on Noah's back. "We're both here, buddy," he said softly over Aria's shoulder.

Secure in his parents' embrace, Noah's sniffles slowly subsided. His head began to droop as sleepiness crept back in.

"Let's get you back to bed," Damien whispered. Noah nodded, already half-asleep. He reached out toward his father, and Damien carefully lifted him into his arms.

Aria followed as Damien carried Noah to his room. In the soft glow of the night-light, Damien laid the drowsy boy in his bed and drew the blanket up snug. Noah's stuffed dragon was tucked under one arm, earning a tiny, sleepy giggle from the boy.

"Daddy?" Noah murmured as Damien sat on the bed's edge. "Will you stay until I sleep?"

Damien smiled and took Noah's small hand. "I'm right here. Close your eyes."

In a low, gentle voice, Damien began to hum a lullaby. Aria's breath caught at the doorway. The sound was soft and soothing, wrapping the room in warmth. Within minutes, Noah's eyes drifted shut and his breathing became deep and even.

Soon, the little boy was fast asleep. Damien squeezed his hand once and then carefully stood. Aria stepped back to let him tiptoe out of the room. Together, they pulled the door to, leaving just a crack open.

"He'll be okay now," Damien whispered as they walked side by side down the hall.

"Thank you," Aria whispered back. "You were great with him."

Damien shook his head. "He's a great kid." A hint of pride warmed his tone. "I'm still getting the hang of this whole dad thing... but I'm glad he called for us."

The word us reverberated in Aria's chest. She stole a sideways look at Damien's profile—strong, handsome, a touch of weariness around his eyes after the long day. He cared so much about Noah, and perhaps, cared about her too. The urge to confide in him about Victor nearly overcame her again. In this peaceful moment, with the security of Damien's home around them and his steady presence by her side, it felt almost possible.

They paused outside Aria's bedroom door. This was where they usually parted for the night, each to separate rooms—an unspoken boundary despite their marriage, aside from the one night years ago and fleeting moments like the kiss on the terrace weeks before.

Aria hesitated, not quite ready to let go of the closeness they'd shared comforting Noah. "Damien..." she began softly, unsure what she wanted to say. Thank you. I'm sorry. Please help me. The words tangled on her tongue.

He turned to face her, one hand braced on the doorframe above her shoulder. His nearness made her pulse flutter; the subtle spice of his cologne, the concern in his eyes mixed with something deeper, all threatened to undo her resolve.

"If something's wrong," Damien said gently, picking up their earlier thread, "let me help. Even if you don't want to tell me now... I'm here whenever you're ready." He lifted a hand slightly, and for a moment Aria thought he might touch her cheek. Instead, he softly tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. The tender gesture sent a thrill through her.

Aria forced a tremulous smile. "I know. I promise... I'll be fine. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Damien's eyes darkened as if her words pained him. "Too late. I'm already worried," he murmured wryly. He lowered his hand, though he didn't step back, his arm still resting on the frame and keeping him close.

Her heart thudded. This was it—the moment to finally tell him the truth, to share her burden. She opened her mouth, gathering courage... but then Victor's parting whisper from the gala slithered through her mind: a warning that if she wasn't careful, she'd lose everything she cared about.

Fear crashed over her, dousing the fragile urge to confide. Instead, Aria exhaled softly and lowered her eyes. "Good night, Damien," she whispered.

For a moment, Damien didn't move. She felt the tension radiating from him. Then he inhaled, stepped back, and allowed a polite distance to form between them. "Good night, Aria," he replied quietly.

She slipped into her bedroom and closed the door, her heart aching. Leaning against it, Aria squeezed her eyes shut, willing her racing pulse to slow. That had been far too close—in so many ways.

After a few steadying breaths, she crossed the room. Pale moonlight filtered through the window sheers, casting silver squares on the carpet. She had nearly reached the bathroom to change out of her gown when her phone, lying on the vanity, buzzed loudly in the silence.

Aria jumped at the sound. Her stomach flipped as she hurried over. It was well past midnight—no one would message her at this hour without a reason. A single notification glowed on the screen: Unknown Number. Dread pooled in her gut, yet she knew at once who it was.

With trembling fingers, Aria unlocked the phone and opened the text:

"No more running, Aria. You know what I want.

Tomorrow. 9 PM. Pier 27. Come alone, or I spill your secrets to the world."

Aria's blood ran cold. There was no name, but none was needed. Victor had made his move.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, the phone clutched in her hands. The fear that had been simmering since the gala now threatened to overwhelm her. Our little secrets. He could expose everything: her real identity, the years she'd spent in hiding, the truth about Noah's birth... maybe even things she didn't realize he knew.

Her vision blurred as she read the message again and again. If she didn't meet him tomorrow night, he would carry out his threat. He would rip apart the careful life she'd constructed and drag her secrets into the light.

Aria drew a shaky breath, wiping a tear from her cheek. There was no choice. She would have to face him—on his terms. Alone. She would not risk Damien or Noah getting caught in the crossfire of her past.

She squared her shoulders, steeling herself. Tomorrow night at 9, she would be at Pier 27. Somehow, she would find a way to stop Victor and end his blackmail. Whatever it took, she had to protect the people she loved.

Outside, a distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, as if forewarning the storm about to break in her life. Aria shut her eyes briefly, praying for strength. She didn't know how she would outmaneuver Victor, but one thing was certain: she would not let him destroy the fragile happiness she had found with Damien and Noah.

Not now. Not ever.